


Dragon Eyes

by Mutant_Toad



Series: Bloodlines [2]
Category: Dragonheart (1996)
Genre: Coming of Age, Dragon Eggs, Dysfunctional Family, Exploring Sexuality, F/F, F/M, Gender Issues, Lesbian Sex, Magic, Male-Female Friendship, Non-canon future, Parental Sacrifice, Pregnancy, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-08-28 20:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8461825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mutant_Toad/pseuds/Mutant_Toad
Summary: The child of the cruel tyrant, Einon, and the naive witch, Glenna, must find her place in a world that hates her.





	1. Chapter 1

“Bowen!” the girl’s rusty colored short cut curls bounced as she ran down the stone pathway and jumped into the knight’s arms. She was tall for her age, but thin and gangly. Her slate gray eyes were wide and big, just like her mothers once were. She was well into her years of maturity, but her body had little form to it. Just as her father had inherited none of his own mother’s grace and beauty, she had got none from her mother. She was, physically, every bit her father’s child. 

He laughed a little as he caught the thin girl. Had she been of average weight for her age, she might have stood a chance at knocking him down, but as it was, he caught her easily and hugged her close to his chest. Bowen was well aged, but he had managed to maintain much of his physical strength. Even still, a teenager throwing their self at him could have easily knocked him off his feet, “Emma!” he said her name happily and kissed the top of her head before letting her down to her feet.

“I was worried you wouldn’t be here for my birthday. You know how mother is about it. I’m not even sure she’s going to get out of bed this year,” the girl’s voice was filled with sadness. As if she had done something wrong to put her mother to bed this year, “Is Kara going to be coming?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked further down the stone path and towards the tree line that lead out to the open field beside the castle, “Have we ever missed your birthday? Don’t worry about your mother. If she doesn’t want to join us, then that’s more food for the rest of us,” not that her mother really ate anything. It was amazing the woman had survived seventeen years with how little she ingested, “Though Edmund could probably eat it all himself.”

Seventeen years it had been since Emmaline had been born. Seventeen years since the tyrant king had been killed. Seventeen years since a new law took over the land. One where the people worked in a council of sorts to resolve the needs of the villages. Bowen was in the position of decision maker should the council come to a stalemate. It was rough, but it was a better working system than before. No one had more power than anyone else. Each village elected a person to represent them and they were slowly recovering from the years of torment Einon had put them through. While the term king was sometimes applied to the old knight, he had a hard time accepting it.

While most used this day to celebrate their freedom from tyranny, there was a small group of people who gathered at the edge of the forest to celebrate Emmaline’s birthday every year.

Her cheeks flushed at the mention of Edmund. The sixteen year old son of Bowen and Kara. Emmaline had harbored feelings for him since they were young, but he treated her like a little sister (even though she was the older one). He was tall and strong like his father, but he had his mother’s fire red hair and striking green eyes. Nearly every girl in the villages their age had eyes for him. Emma was well aware that she wasn’t near pretty enough to catch his eye. They had been raised too closely together for there to be a mutual romantic interest. While his name could make her blush, Emma didn’t delude herself. She refused to be her mother.

“You’ve cut your hair,” he ruffled the short mess of curls on her head as they walked.

Emma stared down at her feet silently for a moment before speaking, “She made me. You know how she is.”

Bowen made a throaty noise, “I’ll speak with her...again.”

“Don’t worry about it. You know she’s not going to change. There is no point in wasting your breath. I’m amazed she let me out of the house like this,” she smoothed out her dress skirt a bit. It was plain and cheaply made, but it was the only one she had. Her mother didn’t allow her to wear women’s clothing. 

Emmaline had been of marrying age for two years now, but there were no suitors for her. She was the unattractive daughter of a witch. A witch who threw rocks at Bowen and Kara. A witch who hexed and killed any stray farm animals that got near their house rather than return it to it’s owner.. A witch who had, several times, attempted to poison people who upset her. A witch who refused to acknowledge that she even had a daughter. No. There would be no suitors for Emma. This left her stuck in the small shack of a house well into the forest.

No one would marry her and no one would take her in, outside of Bowen and Kara, “Bowen…”

“You want to move back into the castle?” he read her mind.

“Yes!” she stopped and covered her face with her hands and sobbed softly, “I can’t stand it. She calls me Ryce. She hexes me if I try to correct her. She tells me that I’m supposed to be king and that you killed my father in cold blood. That you’re a monster who wants us dead. She tries to make me hex and curse animals she catches for practice. I don’t want to be a witch. I know you let her take me here because you thought it would be good for us, but it’s not. She’s only become worse,” her mother had dragged her from their home in the stone castle to the hovel in the forest several years ago. Bowen and Kara has allowed them to live in the castle, but things came to a head when her mother had tried to kill Edmund, “I’ve tried with her and I can’t bare it anymore.”

The knight hugged her close and pet her hair gently, “Of course you can,” she was unmarried, but still an adult. Her mother would put up a fight, but together, they could all handle her, “We will discuss it more tomorrow. Today is your birthday and that’s all that matters.”

Comforting warmth spread through her body. She was happy. A rare feeling these days. All she wanted was to be surrounded by people who cared about her. And she was.

Kara hugged her tight and she gave a big hug to the elderly Brother Gilbert. Bowen’s wife was as beautiful as ever. Her long red hair was like waves of fire. Her green eyes had small wrinkles around them, but they were wrinkles of smiling. She was a strong woman and Emma wanted to be like her. There were times she was jealous of Edmund for getting to be Kara’s child. Why couldn’t she have been born to a better mother? Why didn’t she get to have a father? Why did she have to bare only being hugged once a year on a birthday by people who weren’t her blood family? They had done their best to be a family to her, but her mother had made it difficult. Emma knew she didn’t truly belong.

The small group sat together under the shade of the trees, listening to the sounds of celebration coming from the nearby village. It was the day King Einon had been killed and they were freed. That meant fires, feasts, and music. Emmaline knew she wouldn’t be welcomed there either. While only her mother ever said it, everyone secretly whispered about how she was the daughter of the man whose death they were celebrating. There had been attempts in her youth to hide the truth, but she heard the whispers on how much like the man she looked.

Emma tried not to let it bother her as the only friends she had talked around her. Kara embarrassed her and Edmund by sharing stories about having tried to bathe the two of them together as children and the mess they made about it. Gilbert read his silly, highly exaggerated poetry. Meanwhile, Edmund and Bowen gave her their gifts. They weren’t the things a girl would receive. By her age, most girls were celebrating their own children’s birthdays and forgot about their own. 

Bowen gave her a sword. She had trained alongside Edmund growing up. The knight would say that she had her father’s gift for swordwork, but she had a better heart for it. Edmund gave her a new chainmail vest. He had been learning to make it himself and was proud of it. It made her blush when he said that he had a matching one for himself. Kara gifted her a cream colored tunic with the same crest on it that Bowen and Edmund wore on theirs. Gilbert, in his old age, had forgotten to get her a present and instead recited more poetry.

While she thanked them profusely for the gifts, part of her knew she would be crying over them later in the evening. She wanted dresses, brooches, and pretty hair clips like other girls got. She loved her gifts, but a part of her was dying to be treated like any other girl. Not the daughter of a witch who treated her like a boy. It pained her that the few people she considered friends and family didn’t know her well enough to know that she hated the way her mother made her dress and act. Hadn’t she voiced it so much over the years? Emma wanted to be seen as a girl for once in her life. Even as Bowen verbally berated her mother for calling her Ryce and making her dress as a boy, he had been more than encouraging at teaching her to use a sword and Kara was more than willing to give her mens clothing. She wanted to believe that they were simply trying to make life with her mother easier by just going along with it for now.

She promised herself that when she was free of her mother, she would never wear breeches again. 

Edmund and her were sitting together, a little away from his parents, and discussing her return to the castle. He was happy to hear the news and it made her flush again. She knew it was merely because he was happy to have a suitable sparring partner again. If it hadn’t been for Kara being a trained fighter, Emma would give that up too. Edmund’s excitement had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with being happy that she would be getting free of her mother’s delusional claws and his getting a partner again.

Their talk was interrupted as the goblet of wine he was drinking was knocked from his hand by a flying rock, “Get away from my son! Son of a murderer!”

“Mother!” Emmaline snapped as she got to her feet. Edmund moved out of the way quickly as well, just in time to avoid another rock that flew at his head. It cracked into the nearby tree, embedding itself in the trunk. For villagers, the crazed witch simply threw them, but for Bowen and his family, she used her magic with lethal force.

“How dare you celebrate today! The day they slaughtered your father!” her once bright and beautiful green eyes were hazy and weary from lack of sleep. 

Bowen rushed over and brought up his shield in time to keep a rock from hitting his son. The aim was getting better, “Glenna! Calm yourself!” he ordered, but it never worked. Emma didn’t know why he still tried, “This is your daughter’s birthday. She deserves to celebrate.”

“He can celebrate by mourning the death of his father, you monster! You steal my son away from me and tell me to be calm! How dare you speak to me!” Emma had heard that her mother was once a beautiful woman. Comparable with Kara. Emma had never seen that. All she had ever known was the matted, limp, dirty blond curls of hair. The weak, weary, and deranged green eyes. The thin, cold, shaky hands with claw like fingernails. The underweight body that seemed like it shouldn’t even be able to hold itself up. How her mother could have ever been beautiful was beyond her. 

No. Emma was sure she came from an ugly witch and an ugly tyrant. While she sometimes desired to be married and have children, Emmaline reminded herself that she didn’t want to pass her blood on any further.

“Stop it, Mother!” she cried, tears filling her eyes. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she had tried to poison her mother in the past. Even today, while not lethal, she had given her mother a dose of herbs that should have had her sleeping for days. Emma only ever used her witchcraft lessons on her mother. She knew the mix had been right, but her mother wasn't an ordinary person. She'd been silly to think it would work for long.

Glenna went for her daughter. Despite her age and physical state, she was fast. She had Emmaline’s short curls in her clawed hand quick and yanked hard, “Ah!” she gasped in pain.

“Traitorous child!”

Edmund grabbed for Emma’s new sword and held it tight, “Let her go!” he snapped.

She whimpered a little as her mother pulled tighter and she fell back into the older witch. They both tumbled to the ground and the grip on her hair was released out of shock. Bowen ran and grabbed her fast, pulling her into the safety of his arms. Edmund was quick to bring the point of the sword to Glenna’s throat.

The witch laughed wildly as she huddled on the ground, “Kill me like your father killed our king!” she challenged.

“Edmund, stand down,” the knight ordered.

Emmaline felt hot tears burning her eyes. It always ended like this. There was always fighting and it was always because of her. 

She threw her hands out and pushed Bowen away, surprising the older man. She took off running as fast as she could into the trees, tears pouring down her cheeks. She didn’t know why she expected today to be any different. Sure, there were moments here and there in her life that were nice and happy, but the bad far outweighed the good.

“Emma!” she heard Kara yell out for her.

“Ryce!” and her mother.

It was easy for her to get lost in the forest. She’d been running around these trees for most of her life. While Edmund was her only friend, she was far from being his only one. This left her with a lot of time alone. Knowing she wasn’t welcomed in the villages, Emma retreated to the forest for hours on end. Exploring all of the trees, rock formations, and clearings. They were places where she could be alone with her thoughts.

Whether that alone time was a good thing or not didn’t matter.

It was an escape. 

Out alone in the forest, she wasn’t the daughter of a tyrant monster. She wasn’t the pretend son of an ill witch. She didn’t need friends to nap on the grass. The trees didn’t whisper about her behind her back. And she didn’t have to wish she was someone else. 

The red haired prince found her sleeping against a rock in the shade of a tall tree and smiled. He’d been worried that she would have gone further off and possibly got herself hurt. Emmaline was his best friend and he would have found a reason to blame himself if she got hurt. He was well aware that she was perfectly capable of fending for herself and that she was a year older than himself, but he felt the need to hover and protect her like an older brother.

Some of his friends had teased and joked about what it would be like to bed the strange girl. Not because they liked her or had feelings for her, but all so they could be the one to say that they got to bed the _freak_. Edmund hadn’t been above fighting them over words like that. It wasn’t her fault she was born the way she was. Everyone knew better than to talk poorly of her if he was around. Sadly, that didn’t stop the whispers when he wasn’t there.

Quietly, he moved over to her and settled onto the ground beside her. She roused a little and moved to curl up against his side. Edmund was a smart man. He was well aware of her feelings for him. He’d been around enough blushing girls to know the signs. He did his best not to lead her on. It wasn’t that he found her as unattractive as she seemed to see herself, but Edmund couldn’t force feelings where there were none. It was hard not to toe the line of friendship and romance when he tried to comfort her. Part of him wanted to believe she was a smart enough girl to know the arm that slid around her shoulder was that of a friend and not of a man wanting to hold her.

“You didn’t have to run away…”

Emma sighed softly and wiped at her wet cheeks. It had been hours since she ran off, but her eyes were still wet, “I know. I just...I couldn’t think. It was me everyone was fighting about, so it seemed only right to remove myself from the situation,” he looked down to see her idly stroke her fingertips along the right side of her chest, over her heart. It was a anxious habit she’d always had. He remembered asking her about it and she admitted to not even noticing that she did it.

“Father says you’re going to come back to the castle. That will be nice having you around again. I need someone who can knock me on my ass once in awhile.”

She smiled, faintly, “I want to…” the smile faded, “But maybe it’s not a good idea. Mother would try to come get me. That’s why I agreed to leave with her in the first place. If I didn’t go, she’d be there every day hexing people and throwing rocks. I don’t want to put everyone through that again. It was just, I don’t know, wishful thinking. She can’t live forever, right?”

“We can handle it. You don’t have to deal with her alone.”

“It’s not fair to you all. My father put everyone through so much and my mother isn’t any better,” while her mother was no tyrant, she was a menace. A dangerous one at times, “I know I’m just a reminder to everyone of a time they want to forget. Plus, if I come back, your friends and the other girls won’t come around as much. They’re scared of me.”

“Too bad for them. I’d rather have you around,” he regretted his choice of words the minute they left his mouth. Her face was close to his neck and he felt the skin warm as she flushed, “I mean, I just don’t care if they’re scared of you. If they can’t see you for the person you are and not your parents, then they aren’t good people. I don’t want to be around anyone who can’t see past that kind of stuff. I’ll make new friends...and there are always girls,” once again, he regretted his choice of words. Edmund was an educated youth, but he had always been a terrible speaker, at least when it came to sensitive subjects like this.

“I wish she would just die already.”

He swallowed a little, choking back the urge to agree. Edmund reached over and tilted her head up. The sun had set a bit ago and the moon was full tonight. He could clearly see the one thing people feared the most about her. It was more than the tyrant and the witch bloods that flowed in her veins. The moon made her slate grey eyes light up and they almost seemed to shine. Edmund had seen them like this more than once and it always sent a shiver down his spine.

“Don’t think about it. We’ll camp here tonight and go back to the castle in the morning. Father and I will help you get your things sometime tomorrow. Go back to sleep now.”

What people feared the most about her was the slits in her eyes. The speckled and flecked grey-blue-black irises that surrounded the cat like black pupil. No roundness like everyone else. A long slit that expanded to take in the bit of light the moon gave off. She tilted her head a bit and like a cat, her eyes shone almost yellow for a brief moment. Edmund knew those yellow eyes.

“Okay…” she submitted.

Edmund had only seen them in paintings of the great dragon, Draco. Emmaline had eyes of a dragon.


	2. Chapter 2

“Stand back, Glenna. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve never wanted to hurt you, but I will if you make me,” Bowen ordered as the blond witch stood cursing at him from the corner of the room, “This isn’t about you anymore. This is for Emmaline. She doesn’t want to be here anymore,” not that she had truly ever wanted to, but she had felt it was her duty to take care of her mother and keep her from being a nuisance to the village. It took a night of tears and Emma confessing just how bad the witch had become over the few years since they left the castle. The beatings whenever Emma didn’t respond to the name _Ryce_ , how Glenna had burned all her dresses (though she had managed to keep one hidden away), and how she would dose Emma’s food with sleeping herbs so she could cut her hair. And those weren’t the worst of it all.

“Taking my son! You would take away the only thing I have left of him! Ryce, Ryce don’t leave me. Don’t leave your mother,” she slipped past Bowen, her thin frame slipping through his arms easily and she grabbed her daughter by the shoulders, her claw like nails pricking into her shoulders through her tunic, “Don’t leave me, Ryce. You’re the only thing I have. They don’t know you like I do. They can’t care for you.”

“Let her go,” Edmund growled before reaching for the woman.

“Edmund, no!” but she was too late to warn him.

“ _Ventilandum_!” she shouted and both Bowen and his son were blow back into the walls of the shack. The shelving rattled and several jars fell down and shattered around them.

“Stop it, Mother! Stop it now!”

Glenna grabbed her again, but started stroking her hair this time, “Please, Ryce…”

“My name is Emmaline. Emmaline. Great Grandmother named me. The great grandmother who you killed. Do you remember that, Mother? How you killed her?” Emma had heard the story whispered around till Bowen and Kara felt she was old enough to know. They had found her as a baby screaming on a bed, the room filled with death. Her grandmother on the floor with her mother, her heart ripped from her chest. Bowen had been the one to find out that her family had intended on rescuing her from Glenna and Einon and giving her the name Emmaline, “Stop calling me Ryce. It’s not my name. It never was and it never will be.”

“Don’t say that. Your father wanted to name you that. It means power. He was so proud to be having a son. You were to be everything to him. You are the spitting image of him, Ryce. You’re all I have left. I won’t let you go. I have too much to teach you for when you’re king.”

She managed to pull herself free from her mother’s surprisingly strong grip, “No! I don’t want any of that! I’m not you or him! I don’t want to rule anything! I don’t want to learn anything from you!” though she had been taught a lot over the years, mostly against her will. So long as Emma was keeping her mother busy with her _lessons_ , then the old witch wasn’t tormenting other people. She hadn’t put up much of a fight when her mother said they were leaving the castle. She could have stayed. Bowen and Kara could have kept her there, but she went willingly. It wasn't something she kept hidden, Emma felt that her mother was her responsibility and it was up to her to bare the woman’s insanity. It had taken till now to get it into her head that it wasn’t her cross to bare.

“Glenna,” Bowen had recovered from the hit and was back on his feet, helping his son up now as well, “Emmaline deserves to live her own life. We’re not stealing her from you. We’ve done nothing but try to help you from the day she was born.”

The knight had told her that her father had been raised devoid of any love in his life. He’d only ever known his own tyrant father and his silently submissive mother. By the time Bowen came into his life, it was too late. No amount of affection, love, or kindness could break what had been built up. Not even a dragon’s love and heart. Emma knew the only reason Bowen and Kara had kept her was to keep that from happening again. To keep the cruel bloodlust that was Einon’s bloodline from rising up again. Over the years, they had grown to care for her like their own child, but she knew that it had started as a necessity. 

Glenna didn’t seem to hear him. She just stared into her daughter’s eyes. Emma knew it was her father she was seeing, “You can’t leave me, Ryce. I won’t let you. You’re too important.”

“Important for what, Mother? You’re always saying that, but deep down you know I’m not important to anyone or anything. Please let me go,” she had decided she was going to leave no matter what, but it would be easy to, “Just let me go back to the village. Let me find something useful to do for the people my father hurt. I just want to live in peace and be alone,” she’d stay at the castle for a little while, but Emma wanted to have a house of her own. Even if it was just a shack on the edge of one of the villages. She was strong, despite her size, and she could provide the village with meat from hunting and she was more than willing to do any labor people wanted her to. Anything to just have some semblance of normal life, “I’m leaving no matter what, but if you have any love for me at all, you’ll promise to stay away.”

The dazed and crazed green eyes stared at her. Emmaline wasn’t sure if the woman had heard anything she said. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that all Glenna ever saw when they locked eyes was her father. She’d been born out of the deranged hope that a child would make the king love her. Her long fingers stroked Emma’s cheek softly. There were rare times when her mother had the ability to be gentle and Emma deluded herself into thinking she’d finally got through to the woman, but then she would speak again, “I need to teach you to be a strong king, Ryce. I’ve raised you with power. It’s what your father would have wanted.”

She shook her head a little before reaching up and touching her mother’s cheek in return, “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t want to have to do this, but like you said, you raised me to be powerful…”

“Emma…” there was concern in Bowen’s voice. She knew what he was worried about. There was so much blood spilled in her family history. No one really knew how the labor maid or her witch grandmother had died, but they knew it was because of Glenna. They all knew that Einon had killed his mother, along with dozens of others. No one could really fault her for killing her own mother. After all, it was in her blood.

“It’s okay, Bowen,” she reassured him that she wasn’t her father, “I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll release it when we get to the castle. I promise… _Obfirmo_ ,” the witch gasped in surprise as her body went rigid. 

Edmund stepped forward, cautiously, in front of the blond witch. There was shock in her deranged, unblinking eyes. Her arms were held up as if she were still touching her daughter’s face, but Emma had moved away to gather the few possessions she had, “What did you do to her?”

“It’s a holding spell. Mostly harmless, so long as it’s released within a few hours. Too long and the person will have to take some time to recover, usually a few days. Even longer and their lungs will stop working. That takes a few days though. I’ll break it once we’re gone. She’ll be angry, but…”

“It’s okay,” Bowen pat her shoulder lightly as he helped her stuff things into a sack, “You don’t have to explain yourself. Let’s go.”

She sighed softly before walking back over to her mother and kissing the woman’s cheek, “I’m sorry. You never loved me, but I will always love you. I hope one day you can see that. I know you’re going to come after me, but you trained me well enough. I’m not scared of you anymore,” as hard as she had tried not to learn her mother’s craft, it was hard not to absorb it, “Good bye, Mother,” she kissed her mother’s cheek once more before Bowen ushered her towards the door.

Edmund lingered for a moment, watching the shock in Glenna’s eyes slowly turning into sadness and then rage, “Edmund!” his father called for him.

“I’m coming!” he shouted back before raising his sword to the witch, “She might not be willing to kill you, but I won’t hesitate if I have you alone. You have magic, but you’re getting old. You’ll slip up and I’ll take your head. Stay out of her life.”


	3. Chapter 3

It had been nearly two months since she came back to the castle and her mother had yet to make her move. Emma had made good on her promise to release the holding spell once they were back in the stone building, but the wrath they had been anticipating never happened. She was tempted to go make sure the woman was still alive, but Kara had suggested that her mother might be in mourning over the loss of her child and it might do well to let her stew in her own choices for a while. It might not lessen the wrath that would come, but there was the tiniest hope that it might never come. Perhaps her child abandoning her might be just enough to finally shock Glenna into some kind of sanity. 

When she came back, they allowed her to take any room she wanted; but when she found the one she wanted, Kara asked with a rather concerned tone if that was the one she really wanted. She didn’t know why, but she really did prefer it. Even when she was a child, she would hide out in the same room. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure why the room didn’t belong to Bowen and Kara. It was one of the largest in the castle. Her first memory of it was it being boarded off, but her and Edmund had managed to pull the boards free. The bed was large enough for several people, but it was covered in a layer of dust. The fireplace was clogged up from years of disuse. Nothing in the room had been touched in years. When asked, Bowen and Kara said that it was a place of bad memories. Emma didn’t care though. There was something strangely comforting about the room.

She spent most of her time alone. Emma didn’t want anyone to change their daily lives for her. The first few weeks, barely anyone saw her at all. She spent a lot of time sleeping and keeping to herself. It was nice being back in the castle. While she had never met her father and knew only of the cruelty he’d inflicted on people, she knew it was his inspiration for the once ruins to become a great castle again. It was built on the blood and bones of enslaved peasants, but that was why Bowen and Kara had chose not to have it torn down. It belonged to the people now. Many of the village leaders had rooms that belonged to them in it. Families were always coming and going. It was common ground for everyone now. A place to meet, settle business, and to celebrate together. No one was barred from entering. It belonged to the people who had created it.

It took a month for Edmund to finally convince her to come out and be around people again. He stayed close to her, shielding her from staring eyes and whispered voices. Very few were okay with her being back; though they were thankful Glenna had not come with her. She was quiet and kept her head down, doing her best not to draw attention to herself. She took to wearing the hood of her cloak over her head, even when it was warm out, to try to hide herself a bit. When Edmund’s companions or the girls who liked to flirt with him came around, she would always make herself scarce. 

She spent a lot of her time with Brother Gilbert. The man was the closest thing to a grandfather she’d ever had. The old monk always loved to talk and she was ever the open ear. They were playing a game of chess when Bowen came in, “Check, Brother Gilbert,” she said with a smile and moving her piece. The set had belonged to her grandmother Aislinn. The knight had been good friends with the former Queen Mother. He said she was a great beauty and of great intelligence. She had tried to teach him the game, but he had only mildly been able to pick it up. Emma had learned to read so she could get through her grandmother’s books. One of which contained the instructions. Luckily, Brother Gilbert was a well learned man and they learned together. 

“Ah! So it is!” he said loudly with a smile, “I fear you have taken me again, Princess,” she’d asked him not to call her that many times in her life, but he never remembered. She hated it, “I shall best you again one day.”

“I’m sure you will, Brother Gilbert,” Emma didn’t dare fake a loss for him. It would hurt him if he found out he’d won under false pretenses. It was a good thing he was not a sore loser, “But not today. Check mate.”

Bowen and Kara entered the old monk’s room and asked to speak with her, “We have a surprise for you,” Kara said with a smile.

“Oh, you two don’t have to do anything for me. You’ve done more than enough,” she did her best to pitch in. The maids wouldn’t come to her room, so she made sure to clean it herself. Emma tried to help out in the stables and such, though she had to do so alone. Occasionally, Edmund would work with her, but she usually sent him off. Anything to earn her keep.

“It’s more than just for you, but it does pertain to you quite a bit,” Bowen smiled, “For a long time, we thought Freyne,” her grandfather, “We thought he killed off Queen Aislinn’s clan completely. He demolished them and took only her alive,” Aislinn had been a bride of conquest. A beauty to keep by his side and beat into submission, “But we were wrong. Others survived. None from Aislinn’s direct line, but those from her village and clan.”

“R-really?” she looked between the two of them. She knew they wouldn’t be joking about something like this. As far as she knew, Aislinn was the only good thing in her family. She had heard many stories of how good a woman she was. How she had rescued Kara from the tyrant king and how she had died trying to correct the mistake she’d made in allowing Einon to live. How her family were practicers of magic, though a much different, lighter kind than Emma had been forced to endure. They were good people. Even if not blood, these people could be the only thing close to a real family that she had.

“Yes,” Kara smiled, “They managed to escape the village before Freyne raided it. They moved far from their home and made a new home. They had children and grandchildren. It’s taken a long time, but word got back to their descendants that Aislinn had survived and…” the red haired beauty smiled, “...her granddaughter is still alive. We didn’t want to get your hopes up, but…”

“That’s where Edmund and the others went?” they had been gone nearly three weeks, “Are they coming here?”

Bowen gave her a small nod, “Yes. We got word back today that they would be here in two weeks. Twins. A brother and a sister,” Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Even if they were distantly related, it gave her hope that there was someone good in the world that shared her blood.

“This is wonderful,” she couldn’t help the rare smile that crossed her lips. 

Emmaline spent two weeks wondering about the twins who would be showing up. The village and castle prepared for them, getting a feast and celebration together. They knew what it felt like to be under Freyne and Einon’s thumb. These two had lost more than they had, but only just barely. That there were survivors of Freyne’s cruelty was reason enough for celebration. Though it did little to soften their feelings towards Emmaline, not that she paid much mind to them as she wondered about the family she was about to meet.

When Edmund and the other knights were spotted in the distance, she rushed around her room trying to figure out what to wear. Two weeks to prepare and she felt like she hadn’t done enough. She had no idea what kind of life these two had been raised in or what their culture was like. She knew very little of what even Aislinn’s culture was like. Freyne had destroyed everything and the Queen Mother had taken most of it to her death. Very little was written down and very little of it written down was well taken care of. 

Looking in the reflecting mirror, she had a feeling that it didn’t matter. There was little she could do to make herself look nice, despite her best efforts. Kara told her that at her age, she had been a gangly thing, not worth looking at. She knew that the red haired queen was simply doing her best to build her self confidence. From seeing her mother and what she knew of her father, she was not expecting some magical change to happen. She accepted what she looked like and would do her best to deal with it. At least it helped keep the boys away. As eager as she was at times to experience intimacy, Emma didn’t want to risk pregnancy. Best to stay celibate.There was no harm in it that she could see.

“Come on, Emma, we’re going to be late,” Kara said from the door way, “You look beautiful,” kind words from someone who had once likely been willing to be rid of her as a baby rather than risk her turning into another Einon or Freyne, “Come on.”

Emma ran her fingers through the short curls before following after the older woman. While it was a little uncomfortable, due to not normally wearing such things, she was wearing a green linen dress. It was plain, no embroidery, and she wore no jewelry to accompany it. What was it that she had heard one of the villagers whisper when Kara hadn’t been looking while taking Emma out to buy the dress? _A pig in a necklace was still just a pig_. That’s why she turned down everything except the simple dress. No sense in wasted money on something no one would look at. One nice, not tattered, dress was all she wanted.

She fussed with her cloak, debating pulling the hood over her head to try and shadow her eyes. She didn’t want them seeing that first, but Bowen’s hand on her shoulder made her stop. The weight of it calmed her down and she instead stood staring at her feet till she heard the horses clopping up the stone and dirt pathway.

Her eyes went to Edmund first. Always handsome on his horse and in his simple traveling clothes. The crest of the dragon bright on his chest and a smile on his strong jawed face. It wasn’t love she felt for him. It was affection and admiration. Emma longed to know what it felt like to be kissed and held. Edmund was strong, intelligent, brave, and kind. Unlike her mother, she knew better than to think about love. Edmund was the easiest option for an outlet for the feelings she couldn’t experience. He’d never take advantage of her and he’d always be there for her. Emma promised herself that she wouldn’t cry when he finally chose a wife and had children. She would stand proud of him and be happy for him.

Her eyes next went to the horses on either side of him. It was easy to tell that these were the twins. Even with their difference in gender, they had enough similarities to see it. They were both tall and slenderly built. At least a year or two older than herself. The boy had short cut blond hair that came down to his ears. He had deep set eyes with a strong nose and jaw. The girl had hair braided down to her waist and pulled over one of her shoulders. It stood out bright against her brown cloak. Her jaw was softer, more slender and her eyes wider. Both had piercing blue eyes, nothing like the horrible blue-gray of her own.

The traveling party got close and the three in the front dismounted as people came up to help the others with the supplies that had been brought. Kara hugged her son tight. It had been his first real time away from home. He had a whole party of knights with him, all trained by Bowen, so the danger was minimal. Even still, it was easy to see how much love Kara had for her child.

“Father, Mother,” very few ever addressed them as King and Queen. They didn’t like or want the titles and only accepted the roles for the sake of a ruling system to deal with business, “This is Torvil,” the male twin bowed with a smile on his face, “And his sister Thyra,” she bowed low as well.

Emma stood frozen to her spot as the two move forward to greet the twins. She was scared. She didn’t want to get too close to them. What if they saw in her what everyone else saw? Her grandfather had taken away any chance they had ever had at living among their own people. They own grandparents were forced from their homes and forced to live with people who likely didn’t understand them. Forced to take on a new religion and a life all together. Everything unfamiliar and scary. And it was all her family's fault. Would all they see in her was the cruel, heartless tyrants she came from? Would they recoil in disgust if she accidentally touched them the way other people did? Would they whisper behind her back when they thought she couldn’t hear?

A smooth, deep voice broke through her fearful thoughts, “And this must be Emmaline. It’s wonderful to meet you,” her eyes flicked up to see the handsome smile on Torvil’s face. She hadn’t realized how close he had got to her. He was barely a foot away now. In surprise, she nearly stumbled back, “Edmund has told us so much about you…” he reached out and grabbed her hand, causing her to flinch. Torvil brought it up to his lips and kissed it lightly, “But he didn’t say how beautiful you were.”

The words hit her more than his actions and she yanked her hand away quickly, “It’s good to meet you as well. I can’t say how surprised I was to hear of your existence,” she looked over to Thyra and smiled a little before looking back to Torvil, “And it is likely Edmund never mentioned it because he would be lying if he did.”

Her words took most off guard. Edmund pulled his lips tight together to keep from smirking, Torvil stepped back from her with a bewildered look on her face, his sister didn’t try to hide her smirk, “Forgive my brother. He’s a little heavy handed with the compliments. It’s always been a bad habit of his,” Thyra’s voice was husky and seductive, “We truly are glad to meet you. We are not closely related, seventh or tenth cousins on some removed side or another. Probably not a drop of blood between us. But, still…” she smiled again and moved forward to give Emma a small hug, “We’re family. If only by land and ancestors. We want to know everything about you, Emmaline.”

The hug didn’t bother her as much as she had expected it would. Thyra was warm and soft. It felt the same way when she was hugged by Kara, “I’m afraid there isn’t much to know about me. I’m a very...unimportant person.”

Thyra’s eyes filled with pity and Emma regretted her ill thought words. She was terrible at speaking. While Edmund only had issues when he was nervous, she was always terrible at it. Idly, her fingers reached up and stroked over her dress and cloaked covered heart, “I sincerely doubt that, Emmaline. Remember, we know nothing of each other. That makes you incredibly interesting to us,” there was something comforting about that thought.

“Let’s get out of the sun and into the shade,” Bowen finally interrupted, breaking the slowly rising awkwardness of the situation, “We have a lot of food and a lot of people to eat it.”


	4. Chapter 4

Torvil fell to the ground panting for breath, yanking the helmet off his head and tossing it aside. His face was red and sweating, his blond hair clinging to his face. There was anger in his blue eyes, turning them into icy daggers as he looked at the girl who had put him on the ground. Edmund had warned him that she was better with a sword than most men. It was in her blood. Einon, while not the best student, had been an expert swordsman. So had his father before him. There was a story that Einon had sustained an injury to his primary hand and had self taught himself to use a sword just as proficiently with his other hand in case the injury ended in lasting damage.

The blond man had chosen to ignore these warnings and challenged her to a fight. He said if she wanted to dress like a man, which she still did often, then she should be able to take a hit like a man. Thus far, the only one being hit was Torvil. Unlike her father, Bowen had managed to get through with her his training. It was likely she had surpassed her father in a sword, though she was still shaky with a bow.

“Like the taste of dirt?” she teased a little, keeping her stance strong and her sword ready. _Never turn your back to anyone but a corpse_. That’s what Bowen always said.

He wiped his brow before climbing to his feet, eyes locked on her, “You dress like a man, fight like a man, and talk like a man; but I bet you can’t piss like one.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure I’d have better aim than you,” his sister snickered behind them and he shot her a look. Emma used the moment to lunge at him. She hit him hard with the flat of her blade on the shoulder and then lightly to the side of his head. He growled and buckled a little.

“Give it up, Torvil. You can’t win against our Emma. She’s the best we have,” Edmund stood with his arms folded and his body leaned against one of the trees.

In a dramatic fit, he threw his blade down at her feet, “I’m still weary from travel,” he made excuses for himself. They had been here three weeks and any tire from the long trip should have faded by now. His sister seemed to have no issues in making her way around, “I’ll have you begging me for mercy next time.”

“You can certainly try,” she smirked before heading towards the trees to rest alongside Thyra. 

The female twin was the one she felt closest with. They had spoken privately several times since their arrival and were given more time now while Edmund went to help his friend nurse the wounds to his pride. The beautiful girl was intelligent and mildly talented in a form of magic that Emmaline was unfamiliar with. Where the magic her mother had taught her was violent and rage filled, Thyra worked in softer tones and with a gentle voice. She said it was the magic of their homeland and something Emma would have been taught had she been born around more of their people.

The blond girl also proved to be a good confidant. She didn’t tell Emma that it would get better when she admitted to hating herself. She never told Emma that she would grow out of her awkward features and into a beautiful woman. She didn’t tell her that her family history wasn’t an issue. She never told her that things would be alright. She just let Emma say it. Even when she cried. 

“Do you think I was too hard on him?” she asked as she settled onto the grass.

Thyra chuckled a little, “Nonsense. You should have been harder. He needs a little humbling more often.”

She hid her smile as she pretended to check her blade for any chips or breaks, “I don’t think he likes me very much,” ever since she had rebuffed his comment on calling her beautiful when they met, Emma got the feeling that Torvil was always trying to put her in her place. Most of the time, she ignored people and let them think whatever they wanted and would even submit to doing what most told her to do; but he was an exception like Edmund. She couldn’t see herself crippling to him.

“Torvil doesn’t like anyone much. I’m sure the village threw a party when we left,” she said softly. Thyra had confessed that they weren’t well liked in their home. They were physically different from those who were native. Their features were far too fair and they stood out too much. Her magic scared them and Torvil’s hot temper was always a concern. They were much like the people here, but the climate was much colder, “The river looks beautiful.”

“It is. It’s always warm this time of year. We get a lot of fish from it. Bowen says that he met the dragon Draco in the waterfall up that way,” she pointed off.

“It’s terrible we can’t meet the dragon. I bet he was magnificent,” their people came from a culture who had called dragons their friends, though none of them had ever seen one, “I was so sad to hear the last one had been killed,” though most didn’t understand why Draco had been killed, “I’m sure the reason for it was a necessity,” and Emma left it at that, “You said the river was warm?”

“Oh yes. It gets a little cooler if you head into the forest, but out here in the open it stays quite warm.”

“We should go swimming,” the girl smiled warmly, “You can swim, can’t you?”

Emmaline’s cheeks flushed and she lowered her head a little, again pretending to care for her blade, “I...I can. I would rather not though.”

The other girl pouted and nudged her a little, “I don’t want to go on my own. It’s hot out and you’re going to start smelling soon from all that sweat. Lets sneak off and go swimming. Just the two of us.”

She shook her head a bit, “I’d rather...I’d rather not.”

“Why not?”

Emma shrugged slightly, but she knew the reason. The rusty haired girl did everything she could to avoid removing clothing around other people. Even when buy new clothes, she refused to be measured or to try things on. If it didn’t fit, she just kept it anyway and found a way to make use of it. She refused to wear anything that involved needing assistance in being laced up. When it came to swimming, if she wanted to do it for pleasure or bathing, she always waited till it was late and always went as far as she could into the forest, no matter how cold the water was, “I’m just not comfortable with it,” she admitted.

“Because you think you look like a boy?”

“Because I do look like a boy.”

“Well, I don’t care about that. I just care about swimming for the moment. You’re going to let me go by myself? I might drown. I could get a cramp and everyone would find my body washed on the shore,” her mother had used guilt on her for many years, but it was more playful when Thyra did it. It was less desperate and less demanding.

“You won’t make fun of me, will you?” she fiddled with the blade tip and it poke her just enough to get a pin prick of blood.

Thyra smiled and reached over to tilt Emma’s head up, “Only if you promise the same to me. I can swim, but Torvil says I flail like a dog in the water.”

She bit her lower lip a little before answering, “O-okay,” the other girl’s face lit up with delight. She liked Thyra and found herself more willing to do things that would normally make her uncomfortable for the other girl.

They left the boys to spar and train on their own and made their way further downstream till Emma was at least mildly comfortable with the distance. As she began unclasping her sword sheath and belt, she realized Thyra wasn’t just stripping down to her under dress. The other girl meant to strip bare, “W-what are you doing?”

The blond girl looked over her shoulder and smiled as she pulled her linen shift off, leaving her bare, “Going swimming,” she said matter-of-factly. Thyra was a beautiful woman. Her skin was very pale, not something all that common, and her body was long and lean. She had very little definition from muscles or hard work. Emma wondered what her place in her home village actually was that allowed her to stay so soft looking.

Emma refused to undress that much. She was even hesitant to take off her tunic or breeches. In the end, she was left in her breeches and undershirt. It didn’t matter to her how uncomfortable it would be as the clothing dried later, she couldn’t bring herself to strip any further, “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” the naked girl smiled before heading into the water. Her soft body shivered a little as she touched the warm, but still cooler than the air water, “Come on!” she said loudly with a splash that followed from her diving into the deep water, soaking her body completely to avoid a slow adjustment. The curly haired girl swallowed a little before heading into the rippling water. She dove in once she reached the deep as well and they both came up at the same time. Thyra giggled and splashed a bit of water at her and she batted at it.

It didn’t take long for her to forget her discomfort at being undressed in any amount and to having the undershirt clinging to her boyish form. Where water dripped down each soft curve of Thyra’s body, wetting her heavy, but perky breasts and puckering her nipples; it made the undershirt cling to Emma’s flat and muscular chest. There was no curve to her waist or hips, unlike Thyra who had what Emma had heard referred to as _birthing hips_. 

The blond girl tried to take her by surprise, but Emma was hard to catch off guard. She came up behind the rusty haired girl, coming up from under the water silently, and tried to grab her around the shoulders. Emma whipped around and grabbed her instead. Much like her father, Emma’s senses were different from most. Sounds were clearer, colors brighter, scents stronger, and touches heightened. She had felt the water rippling under the surface as Thyra had tried to sneak up on her.

“No, no, no…” Thyra repeated while giggling as Emma caught her around the waist and playfully threatened to dunk her head under the water, “I give up!” she said with a laugh before sliding her arms around Emma’s neck. She locked her ice blue eyes to Emma’s and smiled softly, the loose bits of her braid clinging to her face, and her cheeks flushed just slightly, “You have beautiful eyes, Emmaline.”

The words made her suddenly aware of how close Thyra’s body was to her own. It wasn’t just near her, it was clinging to her. Thyra’s arms around her neck, her breasts pushed against her own flat chest, and her legs came up to rest on either side of Emma’s hips, “Please don’t say that. They’re horrible. I have the eyes of a beast. Just as my father had the heart of one.”

“Nonsense,” the other girl pulled herself closer, their noses almost touching, “They are unique. No one else in the world has those eyes. Dragons were majestic creatures. Here before man. You should be proud to have their eyes. They are so powerful. So...beautiful…handsome...” she didn’t have time to stop the girl before their lips were pressed together. Emma was in shock and didn’t stop the kiss right away. Her eyes just went wide as the blond moved their lips together with a soft, pleasant sigh. Emma flailed a bit and managed to yank herself free of the other’s arms and legs, “What’s wrong?”

“W-why did you do that? I’m...I’m a woman. You’re a woman,” she had heard of women taking other women to bed with them and their husbands, but only to satisfy their husbands. Sometimes a wife did what was necessary to keep her place at her husband’s side.

Thyra swam quick to wrap herself back around Emma. The rusty haired girl wasn’t nearly as fast in the water as she was on land, “Why does that matter? Have you ever been with a man, Emma? It’s terrible. They’re disgusting. No one can kiss or touch a woman the way another woman can. The way you brushed off my brother and the fact that you’ve not wed Edmund, I thought you felt the same as I do.”

She tried going for the shore, pushing Thyra off of her as she tried to get free of the water and back to where she had the advantage, “That’s not true. I’m just not delusional. I know what I look like. No man could ever really want me, but that does not mean I don’t want them.”

Emma tumbled to the dirt shore and Thyra managed to grab her arm as they both went to the ground. The blond was on top of her and she pinned Emma down. They both knew Emma could easily overpower the other and get away if she really wanted, but she seemed to be in a state of shock, “Emmaline, we’re women. If we want a man, we can have him. Wine makes it simple. I thought the same as you once, but only till I bedded with a man finally. It was awful. I have seen how you look at Edmund. You want him, but not to bed. You want him so you can be normal. So that you’re just like everyone else. A proper woman with a proper husband. You love him like I love Torvil, as a brother. Think about it, Emma. Have you ever imagined what bedding him would really be like?”

She stared up at the blue eyed woman as she thought fast about what to do. Had she ever thought about love making with Edmund. Holding hands, kissing, hugging, marriage; yes, but love making? She wanted the warm, comforting intimacy she had seen other couples have, “I’m only going to warn you once. Remove yourself or I will make you.”

Thyra looked sad, but she slowly slid herself off Emma’s hips and sat on the ground nearby, “Emma, you are a handsome woman. Strong and intelligent. Unique and perfect. I’ve never met a woman like you before. I won’t lie to you and tell you that you’re beautiful. You’re not beautiful. You’re handsome. Why can a woman only be beautiful and a man only handsome? Emma, you’re a handsome woman. I would love nothing more than to be able to bed with you,” she was in too much shock to respond, so Thyra kept going, “I know you’ve never bed anyone. We could go slow and if at any point you truly feel that I’m wrong about you, we can stop. I was scared my first time with a woman too. I always thought that a woman had to enjoy being with a man. I didn’t know I was allowed to prefer being with a woman, but I know better now. I’ve met all kinds of women. Soft pretty ones, cold hearted ones, handsome ones, submissive scared ones...women are such wonderful creatures. And you, Emma, you’re the most wonderful I’ve met. Not only are we of the same clan, but you know how it feels to be different. You are uniquely different from everyone else and I...I want you to be proud of that. I want to love you, Emmaline.”

Emma couldn’t stand to hear it anymore. She hated when people tried to say good things about her, because she had a hard time believing any of it, “Stop it!” she snapped before climbing to her feet and running for her tunic and sword, “Stay away from me,” she growled, “Just stay away.”

Rather than running towards the forest where she used to run to hide, she ran for the castle. She darted quickly past where Edmund and Torvil were, both the men trying to call out to her, but her ignoring them both. She didn’t stop running, even as her lungs started burning, till she got to her room. Her safety place. Somewhere no one else ever came. Even Bowen and Kara were hesitant to coming in the room. She barred the door and slowly started towards her bed, panting heavily as her body started to catch it’s breath. 

Emmaline didn’t make it to the bed. Her shaky legs gave out and she flailed for the wall to keep herself from hitting the floor. She stumbled and her hands grabbed for the bedpost. Her fingers brushed it and she heard a loud clicking noise. Emma settled onto the edge of the bed and looked around wearily for the source of the sound. She didn’t see anything and wondered if it was just her imagination.

Forgetting about it, she climbed onto the large bed, not caring that everything was soaking wet from her hair and clothing. Emma wanted to go to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Edmund’s fingers ran over the smooth wooden box as he moved down to the lock. It was not like one he’d ever seen before, “Where did you find this?”

“I told you, It was in a hold at the end of my bed,” Emma walked over to the bed post and pressed her finger to a carving of an egg. The egg clicked loudly and a square part of the stone floor at the end of her bed dropped into the floor and slid back to reveal an opening. The box fit into it almost perfectly, with just enough room on either side for someone to slip their fingers in, “It was in there. I’ve never seen it before,” she’d spent a lot of her life in this room. It had been boarded up after her mother moved them into the forest and Emma had reopened it when she came back, “I didn’t know there was a hole there.”

There was a lot of talk about the secrets of the castle. Most of them were there by the original designers of the building and not from Einon’s rebuilding. Kara had been saved by one of these secret passages. Several had been found. Same for this hole, but nearly all of them were empty when opened, “Any idea what it says?”

Edmund hadn’t taken to learning to read and write the way she had. He moved his fingers over the lettering, only recognizing a few of the letters, “It says _Aislinn_ ,” Emma had found the box a week ago, but she had wanted to try to open it on her own. When all of her attempts failed, she finally brought Edmund in about it.

“The Queen? Your grandmother?”

Emma shrugged a little, “I guess so.”

“That makes sense. This was her room before it was your father’s,” he seemed to mentally kick himself just as he finished saying it, “I mean..uh..”

“What? What do you mean her room and his room?”

“I’m sorry, Emma. Mother and Father made me promise not to tell you. This used to be the King’s room. Freyne and Einon. It’s, uh…” he seemed hesitant to continue, but the look in her eyes told him that he best not lie, “It’s where you were born. Einon used to keep your mother in here.”

Emmaline was in shock. She stood staring at him blankly, as if she were waiting for him to tell her it was a joke, but he never did. That meant this was also the room where her great grandmother, Granmyr, had been killed. Bowen and Kara had always told her that she was born in one of the lower rooms. That Einon had kept her mother locked up in a small room till she gave birth. It wouldn’t be the first lie she had caught the king and queen in, but it was certainly the only one that really struck her, “That...that can’t be true…”

“It is, Emma. I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to tell you. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes! Yes it is!” she had been sleeping in the bed where her mother and father had made love and where she’d been born. Emma didn’t see how that wasn’t an issue.

“No. No it’s not. The only thing left from Einon is the bed frame itself. Father and Mother had the bedding all changed out. Father said the only reason they kept the frame was because it had belonged to Aislinn and your people. Freyne had it brought back as a trophy. If it had anything to do with Freyne or Einon, they would have had it burned too.”

Her grey-slitted eyes stared at him for a moment, “We...We are going to discuss this later,” she finally said lowly. Emma was good at bottling things up. She would hold onto it forever if she had to. This was something she wouldn’t let go of though. Emmaline promised herself to find a new room, “We need to...to open the box. I, uh, I want to know what’s inside. It’s heavy,” she decided to distract herself with the box.

“Right,” he went back to the lock, “I’ve not seen a lock like this before. It’s strange. How do you think it works?”

Emma knelt down and touched it, “I’m not sure. I tried to pick it, but I couldn’t get it.”

“Did you try hitting it?”

“Of course. It didn’t even make a scratch.”

Edmund leaned in closer, “What do these mean? That says her name, does this say something?” he pointed to the strange markings around the lock.

“It doesn’t say anything. I’ve never seen marks like that. I couldn’t even get it open with any of my mother’s spells,” she’d tried everything she could think of before involving Edmund. She would have told him once she found out what was inside, but that plan failed.

“We’ve never had a lock we can’t get open before,” the two had explored every room in the castle and opened every box they came across as children, “Wait! I’ve seen that one before,” he touched one of the markings, “It was on one of the books I saw Thyra reading on the way here. She said it was written by your people. Maybe it’s a spell in their language?”

The boyish-girl had avoided Thyra all week. It was easy when she could just lock herself up in her room all day and night. She took her meals up to her room and had slacked in her training and the work she did in the stables. Other than Edmund, no one really took notice, though she brushed him off when he had tried to talk to her about it. The last person she wanted to confront right now was Thyra. She didn’t want to look in those blue eyes and ask for help, “Maybe…” she could have Edmund take the box to the other girl, but what if she could open it? Then Emma wouldn’t be there to see what was inside. As far as she was concerned, the box belonged to her. She was Aislinn’s granddaughter and she found it in her room.

“I’ll go get her…”

“No!” she grabbed Edmund’s arm, her fingernails digging into his arm, “I mean...We can figure it out on our own. We always do.”

“I really don’t think we can this time and why stress out about it when Thyra can most likely take care of it for us? What’s going on with you lately?"

Emmaline bit her lip hard as she clung to his arm, “It’s nothing.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“Well…” she had to come up with an excuse, “You didn’t tell me about the room. So we’re even. We don’t need Thyra. We’ll do it on our own.”

He shook her loose and got to his feet, “I’m getting Thyra. We’re going to find out what’s in that box and why it was hidden. It might be the only things she had left from her home. Why risk us breaking it trying to open it when she can likely open it for us if she knows what those marks mean.”

He started to walk away and Emma burst out, “Do you think it’s okay for two women to love each other? The way your mother and father love each other, not the way we love each other.”

That made the prince stop and he stared back at his life long friend, “You mean as lovers? I, uh, I mean…” he shrugged a little, “I’m not sure women can do that. I know you don’t have a lot of experience,” none at all, “But two women would be rather lacking in, uh, well...body parts…” he started stumbling over his words. He was having a hard time with this, “Did something happen with Thyra?”

Her face was red and her hands were clenched together so tight that her tanned fingers were turning white, “No. Nothing like that.”

She could feel his eyes on her. He was studying her, watching her tense form and how she refused to look at him, “Okay. Well then, uh, even though I don’t think two women could really be lovers, I mean...if they wanted to try, who am I to say anything against it? It’s not like they would be hurting anyone. Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with it. There’s a lot of things I don’t know about. For all I know, they do have a way of...you know…making love,” he chose to use the kind words for it.

Her teeth nearly bit through her lip as he spoke. She didn’t know how to react or feel. Emma was ashamed of herself. Since Thyra had kissed her, she had dreamed of it every night. It was her first kiss. Thyra’s lips were soft and warm. It embarassed her to wake up from dreaming about how it would feel to hold one of Thyra’s breast in her hand, to feel Thyra’s long fingers in her hair, her soft lips on her neck, and how their bodies would feel pressed against each other bare. She still thought of Edmund, but it was nothing more than the usual hand holding and people seeing them together. It was hardly the intimate thoughts she’d been having of the blond girl.

“I’m...I’m going to go get Thyra,” he broke her thoughts and before she could stop him again, he was gone.

Emmaline sat on the edge of the bed, one hand on the box and the other fiddling with the hem of skirt of her dress. Since Thyra had called her handsome, she had refused to wear her usual tunic and breeches. She’d always thought it was her mother’s insistence that she wear them that made her hate them, but she really did find them much easier to move about in than the dresses. Instead, she had been wearing the plain, simple dresses she’d bought at the village. She had fallen a few times over the hem of the dresses and had the length of it get stuck on things. She even took to wearing a cowl over her hair like a married woman. Most were used to seeing her hide her face, but she made an effort now to try to appear more feminine and to blend in more.

The door opening again made her jump and her cheeks flushed as she saw Thyra being ushered in. Torvil came in with Edmund behind her. Emma didn’t want to have them here, but part of her knew they deserved to know what was in the box too. Had Freyne not destroyed everything, Aislinn would have been their Princess and Queen. Whatever was in there belonged not only to her, but to their people as a whole.

“Wait,” Thyra stopped the two boys quick, “I want to talk to Emmaline first. Alone.”

“I’m not sure…” Edmund started.

“Either we talk first or I don’t help. Torvil can’t read a bit,” to which he glared at his sister, “You need me and I will only help if I get to talk to Emmaline alone first. Both of you out. Now.”

The two men hesitated, but Edmund finally relented and they left, “I’ll be right outside, Emma,” he reassured her before closing the door.

The curly haired girl kept her eyes down, but she could hear Thyra walking closer, “You’ve been avoiding me. You told me to stay away from you, which I would have done, but you seem to be the one making sure I keep to that. Shouldn’t I be the one going out of my way to keep my distance? Do you feel guilty about something? Or are you just a coward?”

Her head shot up. Was she a coward? Emma let people walk over her for the sake of them finding some kind of vengeance for the things her father had done to them. She told herself that since her father couldn’t pay for his crimes, then she was the one responsible for baring it. Did that make her a coward? Emma wasn’t sure. Did avoiding a person due to an uncomfortable situation make her a coward? It did. She knew it did. Rather than talk it out like an adult, she ran away and hid like a hurt animal.

“Why do we have to talk about this?”

“Because it’s important, Emmaline,” she knelt down in front of Emma, placing her hands on the rusty haired girl’s knees, “Because I have feelings for you. You’re so handsome,” it pained Emma to look down at the smiling woman.

“Stop saying that. Why do you keep calling me that? I hate it. I don’t want to be handsome,” men were handsome. If Thyra was going to call her that, she might as well call her Ryce.

“But you are handsome. Why be cute, pretty, or beautiful like every other girl? You’re not like other girls, so why look like one?” Thyra leaned up and tried to kiss her, but Emma leaned back, “Do you think Queen Kara is beautiful?”

“Of course. She is.”

“But she’s not. I’m sure she was when she was younger, but she’s a handsome woman now. Her jaw is strong, her eyes are tight, she stands strong and confidant, and her voice is commanding. She’s handsome. A force to be reckoned with. Just like you. The difference is that you’re only going to get stronger, where she has hit her peak late in life. What’s wrong with being handsome?”

“I don’t want to be handsome or different…”

“I don’t think you have a choice in that matter, Emma. Why not embrace it rather than fight it? You can better make up for the things your father did by being strong...not by letting people walk over you,” she wrapped a hand around the back of Emma’s head and pulled her down enough to finally kiss again.

It was her first instinct to push the other woman away. To tell her that she was wrong and that she just wanted to be left alone. But it made her stomach feel warm and she thought about the dreams she’d been having. It actually felt good to let Thyra do it. Her eyes slid shut and she just let it happen. She let the kiss happen and she let Thyra push her back on the bed. Her arms went around the blond woman’s waist and Thyra’s fitted around her neck. She’d never felt anything this nice before.

Their mouths moved together slowly. Thyra didn’t push too hard or too fast. She didn’t seem to mind having to guide Emma through the process. The throaty, pleasant noises she gave off were encouraging to the nervous girl. The kisses stayed soft and sweet for a long time. Neither of them realized how long they had been doing it till there was a knock on the door. Edmund’s voice broke through their pleasant kissing, “Emma?!”

Thyra broke the kiss and smiled down at her. Her fingers stroked her cheek and jawline. She was breathing heavy, staring up into the pretty blue eyes, “We should...should stop…”

“Sadly,” Thyra smirked, “Did you enjoy doing that?”

“Y-yes,” she admitted as Edmund called out again, “We’re coming!”

“Good. We should _talk_ more later.”

“I would...I would enjoy that.”

“As would I,” Thyra leaned down and kissed her again. More deeply than before, but only for a brief moment, “Why don’t we find out what’s in that box?”

“Yes.”

The two women climbed up from the bed and smoothed their dresses before Emma went for the door, “Sorry that took a bit. We had some things to clear up.”

“I’m sure you did…” Torvil sneered a little before pushing past her and going towards the bed and the box.

“Are you okay?” Edmund asked in a hushed tone with a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I’m alright. We cleared up a lot.”

He smiled lightly, “Good. I was worried that you two were going to fight. Not that Thyra would stand much of a chance against you,” he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they both started to the bed, “Can you open it?”

Thyra was already inspecting the lock when they got back to the box, “I think so. These are runes from our people. It’s a very powerful lock. It requires sacrifice to be opened.”

Emma’s eyes went wide, “Sacrifice? For a box?”

The blond girl chuckled, “Nothing so severe as that. Sacrifice just means the giving of something important. For this…” she ran her fingers over the markings, “Blood will do. It is locked to Aislinn. She likely set it up herself. No idea what’s inside, but it had to be very important to her to set up this kind of lock.”

“We’ll never get it open then,” Torvil said with a sigh, “Maybe we can burn it.”

Emma shook her head, “I tried that. It won’t burn.”

“It’s protected by magic. Only the lock can open it.”

Edmund stared at it for a bit, “Does it have to be Aislinn’s blood directly or just her line? Because we do have her blood, just not directly her blood…” he looked over at Emmaline and she gave him a half smile.

“That might work,” Thyra started, “No harm in trying. We wouldn’t need much blood. You should just need to prick your finger and put it in the opening here,” Emma had tried to shove her dagger into the opening surrounded by what she now knew to be runes. It had done her no good to try to pry it open and had even damaged the blade a little, “Do you want to try?”

She was no stranger to a little bloodshed. She hunted and Einon, for a few years, had still had those loyal to him who were angry at the change in the way things worked. Several had attacked both Bowen and Kara who had been forced to defend themselves even at the cost of the mens lives. Then there was her mother who had taught her several spells and rituals that involved bloodletting. She really wanted to know what was in the box, “We might as well,” she nodded lightly and went for her repaired dagger.

Thyra stopped her, “Let me,” her cheeks flushed as the beautiful girl took her hand and pulled out her own dagger. She locked her blue eyes onto Emma’s and slowly drew the blade across her fingertip. Emma was too focused on the blue orbs to even flinch. The men exchanged glances, but didn’t say anything. They both seemed to have some kind of understanding about what was going on.

The blond kept her hand on top of Emma’s as she slid her finger into the lock opening. It was a tight fit, but the blood helped to ease it in. They were both staring deeply at each other till the box clicked loudly and they both flinched. Thyra pulled Emma’s sliced hand into her own hand and held it close in her lap as Emma opened the lid with her free hand, “What’s in it?” Torvil asked with a demanding tone.

“It’s...I think it’s an egg…” they all leaned over to look inside.

The box was large and deep. It was filled with a yellow silken pillow and dotted with bright, shining jewels. Sitting centered on the pillow was a large, oblong egg. It was cream colored with deep red, vein like lines tracing along it, “What kind of egg is that?” Thyra asked before reaching in and touching it, “It’s hot.”

“That’s a dragon egg,” Edmund stated, “Father said he found some years ago when he was still hunting. He said it’s one of his biggest regrets that he destroyed them.”

Emmaline was holding her breath as she finally reached in and touched it. Thyra was right. It was hot, but it didn’t burn. It was a nice hot. Soothing and comforting, “It’s beautiful.”

Torvil smiled wide, “A dragon egg.”


	6. Chapter 6

It had started out as the two of them pouring through the books left by Aislinn and that Thyra had brought with her from home. They were trying to figure out how old the egg was and if it would hatch. They’d dragged all the books into her room and had been pouring over them for several hours into the night when Thyra came up behind her and started kissing at her neck. They had kissed several times since finding the egg, but most of their focus had been on the egg itself. Emma was nervous and always asked if she was doing well. Thyra would laugh softly and tell her that there were few ways to kiss wrong.

The soft neck kisses slowly turned into more passionate mouth to mouth kisses. Emma found that she enjoyed when they laid on the bed to kiss and she got to be the one to lay on top. It felt good feeling Thyra’s body below her. Several of the books tumbled off the bed as the women moved around the bed to get comfortable. Emma’s fingers dug into the other woman’s hips as Thyra gripped her hair tightly. It was a wonderful feeling for her.

“Emmaline…” the blond woman moaned softly between kisses, “Open your mouth,” she said lightly. She hesitated for a moment. They’d done little beyond kissing necks and lips. Their hands wandered very little as well. Though everything they had done had felt good and Emma had a feeling that Thyra only wanted it to feel good as well. So she obeyed and let her lips part. 

She felt Thyra’s tongue touch her lips before sliding into her mouth. It rubbed against her own tongue as their lips moved together. It felt good. She could taste the wine they had been drinking earlier. It made her tongue taste almost spicy. Emma let out a soft moan into the others mouth. It only lasted a few minutes, but it was wonderful, “We should get back to the books,” she said softly after sitting up some. Thyra played with her short, rusty hair and it made her shiver.

“We should, but we don’t have to. I told Torvil I would be in here most of the night, if not all of it,” her fingers trailed down Emma’s cheek and to her neck, tracing the side of it playfully, “It’s warm tonight.”

“A little…”

Thyra moved her hands from Emma’s body and to the laces on the front of her own dress, “Would you mind if I undressed a bit?”

They hadn’t discussed going further than kissing. It wasn’t as if Emma hadn’t see her naked before already. It was one thing to see Thyra nude, but she wasn’t ready to be nude herself, “If you’d like to…”

“You don’t have to undress for me, Emma. I know you’re nervous. You’ll let me see you when you’re ready, but I’m more than ready for you to see me again. If you want to see me…?” she tugged at the strings of her top, loosening it a little while waiting for Emma’s answer.

“I...I do,” she admitted. The dreams hadn’t stopped. They had only got more intimate. She even found herself drifting off into a day dream about kissing Thyra while she should have been focusing on something else.

The dragon eyed girl slowly sat up so Thyra could move. The blond girl made quick work of her dress and tossed it aside, leaving her in the cream colored linen shift. She removed her boots next and her fingers worked fast to unbraid her hair. It fell in soft waves around her shoulders, almost looking as if it were glowing a soft pink in the moonlight that came in through the window, “Would you like me to remove more?” Emma couldn’t speak. She just nodded lightly and Thyra smiled as she sat up on her knees and pulled the shift over her head, leaving her bare on the bed, “Could you at least remove one thing for me?” her fingers trailed over Emma’s chest, tracing the dragon head crest on her tunic.

It wouldn’t be anymore than Thyra hadn’t already seen, “Okay,” she said softly before loosening the lace at the top of her tunic and tugging it over her head and tossing it aside with Thyra’s clothing.

“Much better,” the blond purred. She ran her fingers over Emma’s flat chest again, this time going more slowly, “Emma, have you thought about me at all?”

Was it proper to admit when someone was being dreamed about? Emma didn’t like lying if she could avoid it, “I have.”

“About touching me?” her face went red and she only nodded in response, refusing to meet Thyra’s eyes, “You can touch me, Emma. I’d like it if you did.”

“I’m not...I’m not sure how,” she had seen the young knights with the rowdy village girls. They didn’t seem to have trouble knowing where to put their hands, so she didn’t understand why it was hard for her. Though she had avoided thinking about such things most of her life for fear of getting upset over something she thought she’d never have. 

“It’s easy…” Thyra moved back against the pillows again and pat the bed next to her, “Come here,” Emma hadn’t forgot what Edmund had told her about this room, but the egg and Thyra’s body seemed more important than worrying about the history of a bedroom. Emma allowed the other woman to instruct her as she crawled up next to her. They had cuddled together reading and talking several times in the past few days like this, “I know you’re nervous. If you want to stop, you can say so.”

Emma nodded lightly as Thyra took one of her calloused hands and ran the fingertips along her cheek. Thyra’s body was all soft and smooth. Nothing like her own. She let Thyra lead her hand down her neck and towards her breast. Licking her lips slightly, she had dreamed of doing this. Taking the soft mound in her cupped hand and massaging it in her fingers. Thyra moaned softly and bit her lower lip as Emma’s fingers cupped around the fleshy mound. It was heavier than she was expecting. Warmer as well, “Oh Emma…” the other woman cooed as she attempted to feel her way over the soft breast without assistance, “Emmaline, kiss me.”

She leaned over and pressed their lips together again. She could feel the nipple puckering against her palm. The more she moved her fingers, the more Thyra seemed to arch her back and squirm into the kiss. Their tongues twisted together once more and Emma felt a small rush of confidence. Their heated kiss broke and Emma moved down to the soft neck. Feeling the woman’s warm skin and her blood pulsing, “My breast...kiss my breast,” Thyra instructed and she was happy to oblige.

Her lips peppered kisses around her collarbone and down slowly towards the mound in her hand. Her fingers moved towards Thyra’s other breast, cupping it and rubbing on it the way she had the first one. Her lips kissed to the now free breast. Emma wasn’t sure what to do, but the hand in her hair helped to guide her. She pecked tender kisses and even licked the soft areola gently before wrapping her lips around the hard bud. Thyra moaned loudly as she sucked on it. It seemed like no matter what she did, it was enjoyable to the blond woman. Was touching all that was needed for intimacy? There appeared to be no exact art to it. 

Emmaline sat up and smiled a little seeing how Thyra looked right now. Her bare body was shivering and squirming against the coverlets. Her face was flushed and she looked happy, “Did I do well?” even with seeing how Thyra was reacting, she needed the confirmation.

“Very well, my handsome woman,” she cooed and pulled Emma down into a heated kiss again. Thyra’s free hand moved to her undershirt hem. Emma tensed a little as she felt fingers sliding against her stomach and slowly up towards her own breast. She wanted to tell the other woman to stop, but the fingers were already teasing one of her soft nipples, making it harden and making her shiver. It felt good. There was barely any kind of mound for Thyra to wrap her fingers around, but she seemed content with the nipple itself. 

“Mmmmm…” she moaned as Thyra pinched the hardened bud. 

Their lips parted and Thyra smiled lovingly, “If you want me to stop, I will.”

She didn’t ask what the other woman was going to do next. She trusted that Thyra wouldn’t do anything painful or dangerous. Her breath hitched as Thyra’s hands both went to her breeches and started unlacing them. She went to stop the woman, but Thyra reassured her, “I’m not going to take them off. I just want them loosened. Are you alright with that?”

Emma hesitated, thinking and wondering what it was Thyra could have been planning, “I trust you…” she said softly before letting the other’s hands get back to work. What happened wasn’t what she had in mind and took her by surprise. One of Thyra’s thin, soft hands slipped inside of her breeches and down to cup her womanhood. Her fingers tangled in the soft bit of hair and she started rubbing gently. Her hand cupping the entirety of her cunt and massaging, “Ah!” she called out in surprise.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Her mind was telling her that this was too much, but her body was telling her if she stopped now she would regret the loss of the feeling. It was nice. Making her feel warm from her face and down to her toes, “N-no.”

“Good,” Thyra smiled, “I want to make you feel good, Emmaline.”

“I want...I want to feel good,” it was such a rare thing in her life. Emma wanted to make the most of this. She was sure some day Thyra would want to return to her home and she would once again be left alone with her horrible life. At least now she would have some pleasurable and even fond memories to look back on.

One of the long fingers pressed into her slit and her fingernail caught a highly sensitive spot, causing the girl to arch her back and gasp in surprise and pleasure, “Emma, Emma, touch me too,” the blond begged as her finger worked up and down the slick slit, “Make love to me.”

Heart pounding in her chest, she managed to collect herself enough to slide her hand down between Thyra’s bare thighs. She wasn’t nearly as experienced in these matters, but it seemed simple enough. Her rough finger slipped through the tuft of blond hair and down into the warm folds. Emma had only touched herself once before and found it embarrassing to have to resort to that.

Bodies turned against each other, hands between the others thighs, and both panting; the two women were hardly quiet about their pleasure. Thyra was found of calling out her lover’s name and Emma couldn’t seem to keep her moans to a softer tone. They both cried out in pleasure as their bodies worked against each other. The blond’s nipples rubbed against her own cloth covered ones, the material scratching the both of them softly as they squirmed. Thyra had wrapped a leg around Emma’s hip, trapping both their hands down below. They kissed eagerly and passionately, their mouths being the only thing to muffle any of their sounds.

“Emma, more, more, please…” she panted.

The rusty haired girl didn’t know what more to do, “Tell me. Tell me how,” she pleaded.

“Inside me. Put your fingers inside me. Two of them. Please, Emma, now. I need you to make love to me,” the girl pleaded, her own hand working Emma’s soaking wet slit harder, making her shiver and moan loudly. Without hesitation, Emma found the tender and sensitive opening and thrust her first two fingers into it hard. Thyra arched against her and cried out, “Ah! Yes!”

Emma wanted to feel it too, “Take me too, Thyra,” she panted softly before kissing at the others neck.

Thyra was quicker than even she’d been. It didn’t hurt, but there was pressure. It was unfamiliar and even a little uncomfortable, but none of that mattered a moment later when they resumed their feverish movements. Their hips bucked against each other's hands, their foreheads pressed together as they locked eyes, each one panting out their pleasure as they pleased each other. 

The blond girl finished first. Her body went rigid, arching hard against Emma’s, and her eyes closing tight as she shivered. Emma could feel her lover’s body clenching around her fingers. Her hips bucked a few more times before she went relaxed, “Oh Emma…” she purred before resuming the movements of her own hand, “Keep going,” she panted softly as she sought to bring her new lover to the same climax.

It didn’t take much longer for Emmaline to feel it. Her hips bucked hard against Thyra’s fingers, her finish being a bit stronger than the other girl’s. Her wetness soaked down her legs in her breeches as she felt the rippling waves of pleasure starting with Thyra’s fingers and up through her stomach and chest. Her toes curled and she buried her face into the other’s soft blond hair, “Oh god!”

Both women went limp against the bed, pulling their hands free of where they’d been trapped for over an hour. As Emma flexed her wet hand, it suddenly felt stiff now that it wasn’t being used. Idly, she rested it over her heart, her fingertips stroking the undershirt softly. Thyra curled up close to her side, smiling and cooing pleasantly, “That was wonderful,” she whispered as Emma wrapped her arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

“Incredible,” she mused. Emma stared up at the ceiling and couldn’t believe what she’d just experienced. Just months ago, Emmaline had thought she would be content with holing up somewhere alone and living out the rest of her days as the freak. So long as she was alone. But now, she couldn’t imagine not sharing her bed with Thyra.

Perhaps she was as diluted as her mother.


	7. Chapter 7

Edmund was a smart enough man to understand what was going on. He’d seen Thyra putting her clothing back on with tears in her eyes after Emma ran off. He’d tried to talk to the blond girl, but she had brushed him off. They had traveled together for several weeks and he’d learned a lot about the twins, mostly from Torvil. He’d admitted that his sister was a bit of an outcast in their village. Not just because of their fairer features, but because she had a hard time accepting her place as a woman. She didn’t want to be married or have children. She rejected every man who came to her. Torvil said that it was common for her to take other women to her bed when they had outside visitors. That she was even known for going to bed with married women and their husbands, but only for the sake of being with the wife.

He knew that the woman had done something to Emmaline and he tried to talk to her about it, but the boyish-girl wouldn’t let him in the room.

When she finally let him in, it was only to discuss the strange box she had found. Her outburst about wanting to know if he thought women could love each other caught him off guard. He wasn’t ready to have a discussion like that. He’d always thought Emma would carry a torch for him forever, but he saw something new in her beastial eyes now. She wasn’t in love with him anymore. Perhaps she never had been. Not in the way he’d always thought at least.

It didn’t take much intelligence to realize that the girls had been doing more than talking when they were let back into the room. Nor that when they took to sneaking off after that day for hours on end, that they were doing more than just talking. Emma smiled more and Thyra had trouble keeping from touching the rusty haired woman. They were always light touches, but some part of Thyra had to always be touching her.

The women spent hours late into the night reading through various books and lore about dragons alone in Emma’s bedroom. They had all decided to keep the egg a secret between them all. No reason to alarm anyone or having too many people around it just yet. Torvil and he normally came to check on their progress to see if they had learned anything new, but they both knew it was a bad idea to knock that night. Edmund knew those sounds. It was the sound of a woman who was enjoying the treatment to her body. It made him shudder a little, mostly because he viewed Emma as a sister. Torvil had the same reaction.

Since that night, the two women seemed to be slacking in their work to learn about the egg. He was sure that was not Thyra’s intentions in wooing the dragon eyed girl. He had no doubts that Emmaline was overly eager for the attention. It was actually nice to see her so happy for once. It was just as he’d told her before, so long as no one was being hurt, he really didn’t see any issue if two women wanted to attempt being lovers. Even still, she was not completely herself anymore.

Where she used to get upset if someone called her a man, she didn’t seem phased by it in the least anymore. She used to take her food to her room and refuse to eat with the rest of the castle at night, but now she seemed happy to sit at the table with Thyra at her side. She even attempted conversation with people, though with mostly negative reactions. Thyra was always there to pick up the conversation and finish it with her. She didn’t hang her head and let people hiss at her anymore, she’d force them to look her in the eye if they wanted to speak down to her. Always with Thyra at her side.

These weren’t bad changes in the least. He only hoped that they continued on if Thyra and Torvil decided to leave for their home. It was still in question on if the twins wanted to stay here or not.

“If you want to complain to someone, complain to your sister,” he said lightly as Torvil voiced his anger over having found the egg nearly two weeks ago and they still knew nothing about it, “Do you really believe they are sitting in there reading books all night?”

The blond man’s face twisted in disgust for a moment, “I’d rather not think about what they’re doing. I don’t know what my sister sees in her…”

“Watch your words, Torvil. Emma and I were raised together. We might not be blood related, but we’re just as close as you are with your sibling. I’m not above putting you on the ground as she did,” he wouldn’t tolerate it from anyone.

His blue eyes rolled back some, “My sister has bedded better looking women is all I’m saying. Emma is a bit...below...what I’m used to seeing her with.”

“Do you really think that’s the best thing to be saying to me? Emmaline is not _conventionally_ beautiful. It’s not something she can help.”

“She looks more like a man than I do, Edmund. At least I can grow facial hair,” he reached up and stroked the small beard he’d started growing, “I guess my sister finally found a woman who can hold her like a man.”

“Last warning. Say anymore and I won’t hesitate to put my sword to your neck.”

The blond put his hands up and shook his head, “Not another word about her. I swear.”

“You’re right about one thing though, we need them to work more on that egg. It’s been in that box a long time. Do you think it’s dead?”

“Don’t know. It’s hot to the touch. Where did Emma put it?”

The red haired prince shrugged, “She won’t tell me. She thought it would be best if no one knew where she hid it. She left it in the box, but she didn’t put it back where she found it. We don’t usually keep secrets from each other, but I agreed that the fewer people that knew where it was the better. Even people who fought alongside the dragon Draco are still fearful of them.”

Torvil was silent for a few minutes, “I’m going to go check on them.”

“Careful, you might see something you don’t want to.”

“Very true. You’re coming with and going first. Emmaline might be _like a sister_ to you, but Thyra is my sister. Better you to get an eyeful than me,” Edmund would have refused, but Torvil was right. He also had a hard time believing that even with the changes Emma had gone through, that she would be willing to undress in any capacity. He was sure the only nude body he would see was Thyra and he wasn’t entirely unpleased with that thought. The blond was beautiful, after all.

“Fine, but you’re the one who gets to break up their fun and tell them to get back to work.”

“So long as I don’t have to see either of them naked, I’m fine with that.”

The two women had found themselves a hiding place in the lower levels of the castle. It was one of the old holding dungeons, but it was mostly used for storage now. Few ever went into them anymore. While they could always lock themselves up in Emma’s room, he was sure it wasn’t always convenient to make the hike up the stairs.

As expected, they found the girls wrapped up in each other. They had their books with them, but they were discarded on the floor. Emma had the blond girl against a wall. Her face buried in the older woman’s neck and her hand up the skirt of her dress. Thyra was panting loudly and clinging to the other girl’s shoulders. Her back arched and her hips squirming.

It was a less disturbing sight than Edmund had expected. Neither were nude and there wasn’t much that could be seen. It was really no different from seeing any of his father’s knights or the other men his age with a girl before they moved off to somewhere for the evening. Part of him was very happy for the girl he thought of as a sister. He only hoped it didn’t end in heartbreak for her. Edmund would stay and comfort her, but he wasn’t sure Emma would ever really recover something like that. He’d asked Torvil if he thought that Thyra was just using Emmaline and the blond man said he didn’t concern himself with his sister’s strange relations. Since he began thinking about it, he found it difficult to be with the rowdy village girls that flirted with him. He wondered how many girls he’d left heartbroken.

“Ah! Emma!” the blond girl gasped loudly. Her grip on Emma’s shoulders relaxed and they nuzzled against each other for a moment before it was apparently turn for Emma to get her chance at pleasure. Thyra’s hands moved to the other’s hips and he saw the familiar motions of breeches being unlaced. He’d seen and felt it done to himself many times.

Not really wanting to interrupt the women, he also wasn’t about to wait outside and having to listen to this any longer. He cleared his throat loudly and the both jumped a bit, “Edmund!” Thyra gasped in surprise as her eyes shot open and she spied him over her lover’s shoulder.

Thyra smoothed her dress out as Emma frantically started fixing her breeches, “E-Edmund,” she stammered slightly as she turned around, “What...what are you doing? How long have you been there?”

“Just a minute,” he liked seeing the two of them blushing in embarrassment. Thyra was hard to fluster by anyone and Emma normally only flushed when she looked him in the eye (though not as of late).

Torvil came in behind him once he realized the girls were done with what they had been doing, “A minute too long. Do you really have to be so loud?” he questioned his sister.

“My volume is no concern of yours,” she snipped, “What do you two want that you have to interrupt our celebrating?” the words made Emma blush again.

Torvil started to snap back at his twin, but Edmund stopped him, “Celebrating what?”

Thyra smiled and Emma picked up one of the discarded books, “Aislinn’s journal from before she came here. It has information about the egg. A lot about it, actually. She wrote about it quite a bit before Freyne invaded.”

The blond, stubble chinned man went from annoyed and snappy to highly interested very quickly, “Really? What kind of stuff?”

The two women stood close together, Emma holding the book and Thyra turning the pages, “She got the egg when she turned fifteen as a coming of age gift from a female dragon she called _The Mothering One_. The dragon laid several eggs and gave one to her as a gift of friendship between their kinds. Aislinn was to protect it and pass it on to her children till it one day hatched. They were to raise it together as a sign of union.”

“...but then Freyne and Einon…” Emma said softly, “She must have brought it with her and hidden it in the hopes of it surviving. I’m sure she wanted to give it to her son, but he…”

“Turned out to be an even worse monster,” Torvil said with a smirk at the curly haired girl, almost teasingly.

“Yes. He was a monster,” she admitted. Emmaline knew who and what her father was and there was no point in even attempting to deny it, “She never wrote about it again after Freyne invaded. He was a dragonslayer. If he knew there was a baby dragon, he would have killed it before it could hatch. He probably killed the Mothering One and the other eggs,” Edmund watched his life long friend’s face. He could tell that she was blaming herself for the things her father and grandfather had done again. He doubted even Thyra could get through to her that she couldn’t blame herself for things people did before she was born. Edmund had tried doing that for years.

“Is that all?” Torvil’s annoyed attitude was slowly returning.

“No,” Thyra said with a smile, “We know how to tell if it’s still alive and we know, approximately, when it will hatch...if it’s alive.”

Edmund wouldn’t deny being a little excited. He’d heard the stories of Draco, same as everyone else. Where Freyne’s kingdom was once the home of terribly dragonslayers; they now revered the stories of the creatures. There were many alive who still remembered seeing Draco flying high above the castle as the villagers fought bravely in the trees against Einon and his men. If there was a chance to bring the creatures back, even just one, he knew he had to do everything he could to protect it, “How?”

“Aislinn wrote that if she held it up to the firelight, she could see the baby dracling inside it moving. That while the shell is tough, it is thin and light can get through it. All we have to do is hold it up to the light,” Edmund wondered if Emma would let them test this or not. The egg, technically, belonged to her family. Other than a horrible history and legacy, she had nothing good to carry one from her family. If the dragon was still alive, it would likely be the one good thing people would see her for. Emmaline would be even more protective of it than he was, “But even if it’s alive, we cannot do much more than care for it.”

“Why is that?” Torvil asked with an annoyed tone.

“Dragons can take nearly a century to hatch. Aislinn received it the day it was birthed and on her own birthday. My father killed her when she was fifty,” the Queen Mother had managed to live well past the age of most women in Freyne and Einon’s kingdoms and likely would have lived much longer if it wasn’t for her son, “If it does take a century, then there is still over thirty years left before it hatches.”

The blond man didn’t seem pleased to hear that, but he didn’t bring it up, “Let’s see if it’s even still alive then. Where did you put it?”

“I will take care of it and let you know if it’s alive. It should stay hidden,” while Edmund did agree that the fewer people who knew about it, the better, he wanted to see the baby dragon for himself, “I’m sure it is. Aislinn wrote that it always felt hot. I imagine if it were dead, it would be cold by now.”

“Emma, I don’t think it would hurt if we all checked on it,” he tried to reason with her, “Just bring it to us and we can all see it.”

“I said I would take care of it,” her voice went low.

Thyra smiled and reached up to stroke her short, curly hair, “We’ll check on it.”

The blond girl’s eyes went wide as Emma brushed her hand aside, “No. I’ll take care of it. On my own. The egg belongs to my family and I’m the one that found it. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“That’s not fair,” Torvil growled and Edmund had to put a hand on his chest to keep him from going for the girl, “It belongs to our people. We deserve to see it ourselves.”

Emmaline wouldn’t stand down though. No matter how intimidating Torvil tried to be, “Our people, but my family first. It was given to Aislinn and to be given to her people _after_ it hatched. It is my family responsibility to care for the egg and that’s what I’ll do.”

The red haired prince felt the same as Torvil, but he knew Emma wasn’t going to back down. The boost of confidence Thyra’s attention had given her had made it harder to get her to submit, “Emma…” but the narrowing of her wide, dragon eyes in his direction made him stop. No one would be able to make her do anything. He’d trained with her enough to know he wouldn’t be able to take her and Torvil had learned that the hard way himself, “Very well.”

“You can’t be serious!?” the other man shouted before Edmund put his hand up.

“Emmaline is correct. It's her responsibility for now. I trust her to take care of it,” and he did.

“...I don't like this,” he growled lowly at her.

“Not my issue,” she growled back, “This is my choice to make. Not yours.”

Torvil started to storm off and he glanced back, expecting his twin to follow, but she didn't. Even Edmund was surprised when she wrapped her fingers around Emma’s forearm instead. He snorted in disgust before stalking away, “I'll talk him down…” the prince sighed. He seemed to have to do that a lot with the temperamental man.


	8. Chapter 8

The stars were bright, but their light only just barely managed to break through the trees to the small campsite. They were sheltered from the night wind on one side by a large rock and on the other by the trees. The river was several miles away, but accessible for their possible needs. They had a small fire going, surrounded by rocks to keep it from spreading and several feet away from the makeshift shelter they had set up. 

It had been Thyra’s idea to go camping. Things were tense with her brother as of late about the dragon egg and it seemed best to distance themselves from him for a few days. It had been her who had insisted they go far into the forest and further than where Emma had wanted to stop. 

Emma was worried they were too close to her mother’s hovel, but they never spotted it in the trees. The blond witch had been surprisingly silent since she left home. She had been sure that the woman would have raided the castle many times, but she never even tormented the village. She knew she would have to go back eventually to see if the witch had died, but she was hesitant to do so. What if she was still alive? Would she go silent a second time or would seeing her ‘son’ again made her turn back into a mad witch? Emma wasn't sure she was ready to risk it.

The blond woman at her side and the skin of wine they had brought with them helped to ease any fear of her mother. The beautiful woman was leaned up against her, kissing at her neck softly, and plying her with more wine. She groaned lightly as Thyra’s thin, delicate fingers slid down to her breeches and began working the laces open. Emma arched back against the tree she was leaned against, raising her hips a little so her lover could slide her hand down inside the clothing. She held the other woman tightly with one arm, her other hand clenching the wine, as Thyra started working her fingers along the already moist slit.

Emmaline’s feelings for the other woman had grown greatly and she decided it was time for a showing of trust and affection. As good as it felt, she reached down and stopped the other woman as she started working her fingers into Emma’s body, “Something wrong?”

“No,” she smiled, though she let the wine go and brought her hand up to her chest to stroke over her heart a bit, giving away that she was nervous of something, “I want to go in the tent. I have something I want to show you.”

“A gift?” she smiled brightly.

Emma’s cheeks flushed, “Of sorts.”

They stumbled, half crawled, in their slightly drunken state to the small tent. It was barely more than a sheet thrown over a low branch and held to the ground with stones, but it provided her the privacy she wanted. The fire from outside gave just enough light for them to see each other in the shadowy shelter and they sat up on their knees on the thick coverlet they had brought for sleeping.

Thyra slid her arms around the rusty haired girl's shoulders and leaned in to kiss her. They moved their lips together for several minutes before Emma broke the kiss. Their foreheads touched and she locked eyes with her lover. Emma was sure her eyes were terrifying in the dark. The slitted pupils would have expanded wide, making her eyes nearly solid black; but Thyra never seemed to mind looking into them.

“What's my gift?” she asked eagerly and Emma smiled nervously.

“I...I…” she was finding it harder to speak than she had thought it would be, “I want to undress for you. Completely undress.”

The other’s ice blue eyes studied her for a moment before she smiled coyly, “Are you sure? You don’t have to, Emmaline. I know how you feel about it. I hope you don’t feel like I have been trying to pressure you into doing this. I’m willing to wait as long as you need.”

She was tempted to take the other woman’s offer to not do this. As difficult as it was, Emma knew she had to. She wanted to, “No. I want to do this. I want to show you how much I trust you and...and care about you...love you…” it was more words than she had meant to say, but they came out fast and surprisingly easy.

“You...you love...me?” Thyra went from excited to embarrassed.

Realizing how she’d possibly made a terrible mistake, Emma tried to think of a way to get out of it. To backstep as quickly as she could. Nothing came to mind though. She saw no way out of it, unless she wanted to run away, “Yes. I do. I love you, Thyra.”

The moment of silence that followed was almost enough to make her wish she had run away. If the blond woman rejected her love, what would they do? Would Thyra still want to continue their affair? Emma wasn’t sure she would be able to handle a relationship like that. If Thyra rejected her, she wasn’t sure she could stand to be in the same room as the other woman. Not for anger, but out of self humiliation. She’d never admitting to loving anyone in anyway. Not even Bowen, who she thought of as a father.

Thyra’s ice blue eyes softened and she smiled softly before leaning forward to press their lips together for a moment, “I love you too, Emmaline,” was whispered against her lips before they kissed again. 

As their lips moved, Thyra’s fingers worked at the laces of her tunic. They broke apart long enough for Emma to pull it over her head and tossed it out of the tent. Her face felt hot as the other girl picked and tugged at the undershirt. She wasn’t ready to remove it yet though. While her body overall was a sore disappointment to herself, she would take taking off her breeches before her undershirt. Raising up on her knees, she worked open her breeches and started pushing them down her narrow hips. Thyras fingers helped, tracing the strong line of her thighs as they went. Her body was long and thin, almost sickly looking in her clothing, but under her clothing was a different story. Her legs were long and the muscles tough from years of running through the forest and around the castle grounds for hours on a daily basis. 

Emma was a hard worker. Growing up, she knew she’d never be married or have children. She could either close herself up with Brother Gilbert and spend her days doing nothing more than reading books very few others could read or she could be out attempting to make use of herself. Sitting still was always hard for her. Bowen said her father had been the same way. He said training with the new knights and learning to use a sword would be of better use to her than hiding in a pile of books. Brother Gilbert had agreed. He said that while the pen was mightier than the sword in the grand scheme of life; one who could use both was a force to be reckoned with.

The blond woman helped her as they both giggled drunkenly and she tipped over trying to free her legs. Thyra pulled the breeches free finally and threw them aside before running her fingers the length of her newly exposed legs. Emma had touched every inch of the other woman’s body and it felt only fair that Thyra get the chance to do the same. Even as it made her face feel like it was on fire to have someone touching her like that. 

Emma laid out on the coverlet, watching her lover’s face as the other woman examined her legs for the first time. They were pale, long, and strong. Thyra’s fingers made their way between her thighs, stroking up her warm slit and making her shiver and close her eyes for a moment. The fingers didn’t stop. They worked her folds softly before plunging inside of her body. Emma arched her back and groaned lowly. It felt good to have this done without her breeches restricting the other’s fingers. She squirmed as the other thrust hard into her body. It was much harder and faster than Thyra had been allowed to do before. She was more enjoying it more than she could have imagined, “Oh god!” she panted as Thyra added a third finger into her body. 

Before she could get even close to the wonderful feeling that they both enjoyed so much, Thyra stopped and she whined softly as the other woman chuckled, “Are you forgetting something?” the blond leaned down and slid her wet hand up the undershirt, “You really don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready. I won’t make you, Emmaline.”

The good feeling started to fade, but she knew she had to do this, “I want to. I truly do.”

Slowly, she sat back up and sat quietly for a moment as she prepped herself for what she was going to do. Taking a deep breath, she decided to do it fast and pull the thin shirt off and throwing it off with her other clothing. Her arms instinctively went across her chest and she hunched over a bit. It had been a while since she had been completely nude. Many times she even bathed in her clothing, at least her undershirt, to avoid it.

Like her legs, her upper body was lean and strong. Her arms were tanned to her shoulders, like her face, but everything else was pale. The other men she had trained with were comfortable training shirtless when the summer was hot, but Emma didn’t have that option; not that she thought anyone would have noticed much of a difference. Her arms were built for swinging a heavy blade and pulling back a tight bow. 

“Lay down,” Thyra ordered. Whenever Emma was unsure of where to go with her hands or her mouth, the blond woman was quick to instruct her, “And put your arms above your head,” it was easy enough to follow, but when she went to unclasp her arms from her chest, she found herself hesitant. In the end, the soft fingers touching her hard stomach and sides had her submitting and slowly raising her arms up. She couldn’t make eye contact with Thyra, turning her head and staring off at the side of the tent in embarrassment.

Her chest wasn’t soft and it didn’t bounce the way Thyra’s did. What little mounds, if they could be called that, she had heard the boys tease were more like ‘bug bites’ than anything else. Her areola were small and dusky pink. There were several small scars on her shoulders, arms, sides, and stomach from training accidents and losses. Above her heart, where she always stroked, was an odd shaped birthmark. It was somehow paler than the rest of her body and looked almost like a scar. Emmaline knew the story of what had happened to her father and what he had inside his chest. It pained her everytime she got a glimpse of it. As if, somehow, her father’s heart had been carved into her own chest.

Thyra’s fingers traced along the tight muscles over her body. She’d felt her fingers before, but Thyra had never been able to see what she was touching. Emma hoped the woman wasn’t disappointed, “My handsome knight,” she said softly and it made her blush harder. Thyra never called her beautiful. She knew how much she hated it, “Every inch of you is wonderful.”

“You always talk more sweetly than I deserve,” she muttered a bit before finally looking up at Thyra. The woman didn’t look disappointed, “I want to feel you against me.”

“Granted,” she said teasingly. Emmaline watched as the other woman worked herself free of her dress and linen. Not wanting to wait another second, she reached up and grabbed the blond woman and pulled her close. The woman gasped before she giggled softly and nuzzled into her firm chest, “Would you like me to finish what I had started?”

Emma moaned lightly at the thought, but she liked the warmth of the other woman’s body too much to want to move. She couldn’t remember ever feeling another person this close to her before. Emma never wanted it to end. There was also the need for sleep. It was well past sun down and her head was starting to feel foggy. She had drank far much more wine than she’d realized. Normally, she had a very high tolerance for the stuff, but she blamed the nervousness of undressing, “No. Not tonight. I just want to hold you.”

Thyra was silent for a moment, “Truly? You don’t want anything more of me?”

“I always enjoy touching you and being touched,” it had been a good incentive, the good feeling it gave, at first; but Emma found she was happiest when the other woman chose to sleep in her bed after their love making, “But I love you, Thyra and I just want to hold you. I would be happy if that is all we ever did.”

“...I love you too, Emma…” she said softly before curling up against her.

Sleep took her quickly and it was only her heightened hearing that managed to wake her as she heard voices. They were hushed and she didn’t know what they were saying, but she knew they were near by. Her head still felt fuzzy and her vision was a little cloudy. It took her a moment to realize that Thyra wasn’t lying with her anymore. She glanced around the small tent and didn’t see the blond woman’s form anywhere in the coverlets. Her eyes snapped to the front of the tent as she saw a shadow moving by it. It wasn’t her lover. That much she knew. 

Groggy, she stumbled around the small tent on her knees, trying to find her undershirt, but it was nowhere to be seen. Nor could she find her dagger. What if bandits had come across their camp and caught Thyra outside alone? The blond woman was far from a helpless girl. Her magic was strong. Nearly as powerful as her mother's, though the sources of their powers were vastly different.

Awkwardly wrapping herself in one of the covers as quietly as she could, she started to crawl from the tent. Her intent was to catch whoever it was off guard. They hadn’t told anyone where they were going. Emma wasn’t sure what was wrong with her head, but she was sure she could handle herself in a fight if she caught them off guard.

Before she could make it out of the opening, she felt a foot catch her under one of her arms and flip her onto her back. She felt limp. Her whole body was heavy and cold. It was hard to keep from shaking and she groaned loudly, “You said you drugged her,” the voice was thick and heavy, but familiar.

“I’m sorry. I gave her more than I normally would, but her body is different. It took hours for her to pass out after she finished the wine. I’ve never seen someone tolerate it like that before,” that voice was more familiar. It was Thyra. 

Her eyes started clearing more and she saw Torvil standing over her. He was looking down at her with disgust, “Monster,” she groaned in pain as he leaned down and grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back up to her knees. Her hands, weakly, went for his hands, but he didn’t let go.

“What did you...what did you do to me…?” she managed to get out, but her words were slurred. Thyra was standing several feet away with a group of men. Emma knew most of them only as people who had come to the castle with the twins, but there were a few men from the village and even from the knights Bowen had trained, “T-Thyra…”

“Don’t talk to her, Monster,” Torvil yanked her hair hard and she gasped loudly.

“Torvil, stop. You don’t have to be so rough with her…” the blond woman said softly, her hands clasped together tightly at her chest, “Just get what we want and we can go.”

He chuckled, “Very well, Sister,” he leaned down, pulling her face up to meet his, “Though I know she can handle a little rough handling. A half-man freak like her can take it...but very well,” he smiled, “Tell me where the egg is.”

“What?” Emma couldn’t focus. She didn’t understand what was happening. Not that she was given much time to think about it. Torvil released her hair, but only to bring his hand across her face hard. It wasn’t the first time she had been hit. Her mother wasn’t one to spare her the feeling of it when angry. She could handle it.

“Told you she could handle it. Now tell me where you put that egg,” she took too long to answer, though he’d only given her a few seconds, before his hand came down on her face again. This time balled in a fist. He wasn’t going to hit her like a woman again, “Actually, I want to know where the egg is and I want you to beg me to let you go.”

“Torvil…” his sister started.

“Shut up!” he snapped at her. His pride had been deeply wounded not only by her rebuffing of his compliments towards her during their first meeting, but also by her winning their sparring match, “Don’t tell me you actually have feelings for this thing?” she didn’t respond, only turning her head and staring down at the ground, “Should I tell her how many women you’ve slept with only to clean them out of their valuables? How many of them did you tell that you loved them? Wait, did you tell her that you loved her? Sister, I thought you’d at least hold off on that with this one. Have a little dignity,” he snorted.

Her stomach felt tight. She wanted to throw up, but the pain as he hit her across the face again kept it from happening. She didn’t understand what was happening or why it was happening, “Tell me where the egg is, Monster,” he kept calling her that. It struck her harder than his fist. It made her feel like that sad girl who stared down at her feet whenever anyone looked at her. 

“No…” she finally got it out. 

His fist came down on her face again and she collapsed to the ground. He wasn’t hitting her as hard as he could. No. He didn’t want to break her jaw. He needed her to be able to talk, “Tell me!”

“Torvil! Stop it! She can’t talk if you beat her senseless. Just tell us where the egg is, Emma,” the other woman came over and knelt down to touch her hot and bruised cheek, “Please, Emma.”

Looking up into the blue, pitying eyes, Emmaline felt anger. Mostly at herself. She couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to think someone that beautiful could really love her. They had wanted something from her the whole time. That much she was sure of. Not the egg, at least not at first, but that was what they wanted now. When Thyra failed to get what they wanted, Torvil had stepped in, “Go to hell, Whore,” she growled and Thyra’s eyes went wide with shock.

Torvil’s booted foot connected with her side and she curled up in pain, “How dare you talk to my sister that way! Freak!” he kicked her again, even as Thyra tried to stop him. The other men came up and grabbed the blond girl away, “Stay out of this, Thyra. You did your best. This freak is too damaged to respond like a normal person. I’ll take care of it now.”

“Go to hell…” she muttered again before he brought his foot up to her chin and she rolled onto her back as stars spotted her vision. Nothing felt right about her body right now. Thyra had given her something. She realized now that the blond hadn’t drank a drop of the wine. That the drunken movements had either been acted or imagined by herself.

“Gag her, tie her up, and toss her in the tent...and leave her undressed. Put her up against the tree,” he ordered, “I’m hungry.”

Emma groaned as he moved and a spot of sun shone through the trees and into her eyes. The slitted pupils shrank to nearly nothing till several hands grabbed at her and dragged her back into the shade. Ropes were wrapped around her wrists tightly, biting into the skin. She didn’t even fight it as a wadded piece of cloth was jammed into her mouth and tied behind her head, pinching her curly hair. They dragged her back into the tent and dropped her on the coverlets. They grabbed her bound wrists and lashed them to the tree they had built their tent against to help keep out some of the wind and breeze.

Fiery self hatred bubbled up in her stomach as she slumped down limply.


	9. Chapter 9

A cool, wet cloth touched her face and she tried to yank away from it, “Stop it, Emmaline. If you don’t let me clean the cuts, they could get infected,” Thyra’s voice was low, almost in the tone she used when she instructed Emma in their love making. It didn’t hold the same command it did before though, “Just tell him where the egg is and we will leave. You’ll never see us again.”

She didn’t respond. The rusty haired woman just kept her eyes on the tent opening. Refusing to look at the beautiful woman next to her. There was rage in her body and she wanted to let it out, but her body couldn’t do what it wanted. She wanted her sword and she wanted to hack something up. She wanted to run as hard and as far as she could. Emma wanted to be alone, but Thyra wouldn’t leave her be. When it wasn’t the woman, it was Torvil and his hard knuckles.

Emmaline wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been lashed to the tree. Thyra had tried to bring her food at least three times, though she never ate it. Nor did she drink the water brought by the other woman. Her stomach was grumbling, but she refused to open her mouth when Thyra held bread to her lips. The only water that went down her throat was the little Thyra had managed to force through her tightly clasped lips.

After ever questioning, she always came in to clean up the mess her brother had left. Emma’s face was bruised and bleeding. He made sure not to break her jaw, but her nose had been broken and there was fresh blood leaking from it. He’d dislocated her shoulder a few times, Thyra always had to fix it. There were cuts along her bare sides and down her thighs. Despite it all, Emma hadn’t given out more than a few small gasps of pain and a few bits of colorful language directed at the man.

“I’m begging you, just tell him. Tell me.”

She turned her beast eyes on the woman finally, “Shut up, Whore,” she growled before turning her head away again. Emma ignored the soft sobbing that followed a moment later. She had tried to tell Emma several times that her feelings hadn’t been faked, but she knew that it was just another trick. 

“Get out,” Torvil’s voice broke through his sister’s sobbing. He was back for another round of questioning. It was predictable at this point. All he ever asked was one question and she only ever gave one answer. Thyra sniffled a little before crawling from the tent, “How’s my little freak tonight?”

Emmaline sat quietly. 

“Ignoring me now, huh?” he smirked before crawling up close to her. She tried to inch away, but the bindings to the tree were tight and all she could do was tug at them and make her wrists start bleeding again. He reached up and pushed some of her hair behind her ear, “You might as well tell me where that egg is. Emmaline, if I keep you here much longer, you’re going to die and it could die if there’s no one around to care for it.”

“I would rather it die where I left it than for you to get your hands on it,” she hadn’t managed to find out what they needed the egg for, but it didn’t matter. No one was going to touch it. This was normally when he would start the hitting, but he didn’t. He laughed this time and leaned over to kiss her neck. Her body tensed and she closed her eyes tight, “Get off of me,” she growled.

The feel of Torvil’s fingertips on her chin, tracing her bruised jaw, down her neck, and along her collarbone made her shiver and her face twist with disgust, “I have been thinking…”

“That must have been painful for you…”

Once again, the hit never came, “That egg really does belong to your family. We are too distantly related to be considered family, but perhaps if there was something to link us together, you might be more open to the idea of sharing it with us.”

“Have you gone insane? You are babbling nonsense.”

“It’s really simple, Emmaline. Once you have my child in your belly and we’re married, you’ll have no reason to keep it from me. We’ll be family. It will be difficult, because I find you so very hideous, but women mostly feel exactly the same in the spot it really matters. I think I can manage it if I just focus on it as being a means to an end,” she jerked away from him hard as he ran his fingers down the center of her chest and towards her hips.

Emma’s eyes went wide as she realized what he meant to do, “No! Get away from me!” she snapped and growled as she tried bending away from him and pushing at the ground with her heels.

He took his time. She had nowhere to go and no one in hearing distance would be stopping him. He worked his breeches open, pushing them down just enough to work himself free. Emma had seen a naked man before and knew what to expect, but the sight of it made her ill and she started gagging. With nothing in her stomach, she just coughed and choked as he stroked himself a bit, “It doesn’t have to be unpleasant. All women enjoy it. You just have to remember that it’s your place to enjoy it. You should be grateful to me. It’s not as if any other man will ever offer to do this. Thyra thought she preferred women, but a night with my men changed her mind. That’s why she’s such a good sister. She finally learned her place. You will too. Though to make sure the child is mine, I won’t throw you to them. After all, need to make sure it’s family. If we’re lucky, it will take after my family in looks. It would be a shame for it to come out like you.”

“If you touch me, I will make you pay! I won’t have any child of yours! I’ll smother it!”

Torvil smiled as he grabbed her hips roughly and started pulling her into a better position as he climbed up between her legs, “You’re going to spend every day of the pregnant tied up, force fed, and well looked over. It’s really a good thing for you. Think about it, Emmaline. You have the blood of kings and queens in you. The blood of dragons and witches. My family doesn’t have much to offer in the way of that kind of power, but it would be a shame to let it die out just because you prefer having fingers shoved up your cunt.”

“Let go of me!” she shouted as loudly as she could as he held onto his member and ran the head of it the length of her slit. Emma had imagined being with a man only a bare few times in her life. Her love for Edmund had been nothing more than a strong desire for affection and normalcy. The thought of actually bedding a man had always made her uncomfortable. Emma wasn’t eager to experience it.

The tent flap opened quick. It was Thyra. She stared at her brother and Emma, “T-Torvil! What’re you doing?!”

“Stay out of this, Thyra!” he snapped.

“Y-you can’t...you can’t do this!”

“And why not? You’ve never cared before when I take women this way. Why the sudden care, Sister? I let you get too close to this monster. Be a good girl and I might let you have her a few more times before she has my child.”

The blond girl’s hands clenched into such tight fists that her knuckles went white, “Torvil, please don’t do this. We’ll find another way.”

He ignored her, thrusting forward quick and impaling himself hilt deep into Emma’s dry and unwilling body. She screamed in pain and thrashed as she tried to pull herself off of him. Tight fingers held her hips tight as he groaned, “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a virgin. I forgot how tight they are,” he licked his lips lightly before he pulled her legs around his waist.

Thyra did nothing to stop him. She stood staring for several moments, tears in her eyes, before she left as quickly as she’d came. Emmaline knew she had the power to stop him. She was choosing to let this happen. 

“No!” she screamed as he began thrusting against her, “Stop it!” Emma squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to keep the tears back. It was nothing like she had imagined it would be. As uncomfortable as bedding a man had seemed, she had always thought that it would at least be gentle and loving. This was hard, dry, and painful.

“I would like to hope that this will be enough, but I should probably do this a few times a day till we are sure you have missed your cycle. I’m going to need a lot of wine…” he groaned as he thrust against her more, “You might even come to enjoy it. Beg for it,” Torvil smirked. She could feel every inch of his thickness inside of her. It tugged and pulled at the sensitive skin around her opening. It felt like a knife being jammed inside of her every time he moved.

Unable to hold it back anymore, tears started streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t scream or cry out anymore. Emmaline refused to beg him for anything. If she found herself pregnant, she promised herself that she would find a way to kill it, even if she was lashed to a bed and force fed. She would find a way to rid her body of it. 

Emma told herself it wouldn’t work though. She wanted to believe her body was incapable of having children. She also wanted to believe that Edmund or Bowen or even Kara would find her. They would realize she had been gone far too long and come looking. They always looked for her. Edmund wouldn’t stop till he found her. 

Then, together, they would kill Torvil and his whore of a sister.


	10. Chapter 10

Help can come from the strangest of places. For the Knight named Bowen, it came in the form of a dragon. For the tyrant King’s daughter, it was a witch.

Glenna Torit had been seven when she saw her first ritual sacrifice. Granmyr had kept her at the abbey for three years by that point. She’d seen no one save the coven sisters. They were determined to train her as their future leader. Glenna proved to be a powerful witch. One that would surpass Granmyr easily one day. Had she not been the woman’s granddaughter, she likely would have been smothered in her sleep. Instead, the elderly leader thought she could control the girl.

Even fearful of Granmyr, her father had demanded that she come home. He was more than displeased when he found out that his wife was from witches and had been ordered to marry him. He never bed his wife again, but he refused to let his daughter stay locked away in that abbey for the rest of her life. The one condition Granmyr laid out that he was to keep Glenna away from as many people as possible and men entirely. When asked why, she simply stated that Glenna would lose her mind. While he was not happy with the conditions, he was not tempted to break them.

The first incident happened when she was fourteen. Thieves broke into the home and had found her alone in her bedroom. Lord Torit had heard his daughter’s screams of terror, but by the time they made it to her room, there was nothing recognizable left of the two men. It had taken three days to clean up all of the blood. Glenna remembered nothing of it.

The second incident was when the King Einon met her. She had been enamoured with the man the minute she met him. She felt herself unworthy of the attention of someone so important and handsome. It didn’t matter that she heard the maid Bree speaking badly of his appearance. He was the most interesting person she had ever met. Glenna promised herself she would do anything to make him happy, especially when he expressed interest in bringing her back to his castle to be a Lady in Waiting for the Queen Mother.

The day they were set to leave, she had been confronted by the maid Bree. The girl had told her all sorts of horrible things about the man. Said that he violated her nightly since he’d been there. That he told her of the horrible things he had planned to do to Glenna herself. That if she went with him, she would end up dead on the side of the road, her body used and unfit for any other man by the time he was done with it. Her family found the Bree’s body impaled on a bed post with the word _whore_ carved into her stomach. Glenna remembered nothing of it.

The day her son, Ryce, first latched onto her breast was one of the best in her life. Hearing that her king was dead hit her hard. She refused to believe it for months. She’d even talk to him, even though he wasn’t there. That annoying red haired woman tired telling her that Einon was gone, but she just wouldn’t believe. Nor did she believe their horrible lies of her having a daughter and not a son. She screamed anytime someone mentioned it. Telling them just what sort of monsters they were to try to demean the heir to the throne. For days, she wouldn’t allow anyone near her child.

As her son grew, she saw how much like his father he was. He was tall and handsome, with his father’s eyes. Glenna told herself that he possessed a dragon heart somehow based on the birthmark on his chest. She wanted to do her best to do as Einon had wanted. She began teaching her son simple spells at a young age. Wanting to instill in him how powerful he was.

It was that horrible knight’s fault though. Her son began to hate her. Looking at her with hate and even sadness sometimes. The man who had killed her king was trying to steal her son. She only tolerated the sword lessons because she was not proficient enough to be able to do it herself and Ryce needed to be a great swordsman like his father. She watched every lesson like a hawk. Screeching at the knight who had stolen the king’s throne anytime he tried to take Ryce out of her eyesight.

That red headed whore was no better. She would distract Glenna while her horrible son convinced Ryce to run off to play together. More than once, Glenna had to be pulled off the whore for trying to take her eyes out with her fingernails. She refused to let her son, the son of a king, associate with peasants and their children.

In the end, Ryce abandoned her too. Einon was killed, Anna was missing, and Ryce had abandoned her. Something in her mind told her that her son was at the castle, but there was so much pain there. The loss of her king and her son was just too much. Glenna laid on the floor of her shack for days. All she wanted was to see her son again. She wanted to believe he would come back to her one day.

Hallucinations of Einon trying to comfort her are what finally got her off the ground. It was common for her to see Einon when he wasn’t really there. Her mind told her conflicting information that he was both there and not there. Vision Einon was a far kinder man than the real thing had ever been. He behaved and treated her the way she had deluded herself into thinking he’d always treated her. He would sit with her while she cried into her blankets and stroke her matted curls while telling her that Ryce would come back to them.

Time slipped by for several months and Glenna simply wandered around the trees by her hovel. Occasionally, she would see small groups of village children who came to see the witch. She’d hiss at them and throw her rocks till they disappeared with playful screams and giggles. She didn’t use a bit of her magic.

Ryce had turned on her, locking her powers. Glenna would have been surprised if the idea to do the same to Granmyr hadn’t crossed her mind in her youth. She could still mix her herbs and potions, but she tried to summon the demons to bring Ryce back and it failed. Nothing she did could bring her son back and nothing could make him release her power. He had done as he’d promised and released her physically after leaving, but her powers were still bottled up inside of her. She could feel it bubbling away in veins, but it wouldn’t come out.

“Glenna,” her head shot up at the sound of her own name. She was sitting in the dirt, clawing at the earth with her fingers, the tips bleeding; but she didn’t seem to be digging for anything. Just digging. Her dazed green eyes narrowed as she spied the red haired son of a murderer and a whore. Her fingers went for one of the nearby rocks, “Don’t throw that at me, Witch,” he drew his sword and she hissed through her teeth at him, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you make me.”

“What do you want, Whoreson?! Your family has taken everything from me, you might as well take my life,” she hissed again.

“What did you do to Emmaline? Where is she?” he demanded to know, but she didn’t know who he was talking about. Glenna had heard that her mother told the Knight and Whore that Granmyr had wanted to name her daughter Emmaline, but beyond that, she had a son named Ryce and so the name was never used. Everyone told her that she was unwell, but they were the ones who couldn’t see that she had given Einon a son and heir.

The blond witch ignored him and went back to her digging. It was hard to tell from the blank look in her eyes if she was looking for something or not, “Glenna!” he snapped, but she continued to ignore him till he came closer and held the sword to her throat, “Tell me where Emmaline is. I know you’ve done something to her.”

“Edmund! Stop it!” it was his mother. He had hoped to have lost her, but she must have known he would come here.

Slowly, Edmund backed away from the witch, “That’s right, little boy, listen to your whore mother,” she hissed, “You should always listen to your mother, even if she is a peasant whore.”

Kara’s red hair always made her angry. She heard stories that Einon had planned to make the other woman his queen and that he had had his way with her while Glenna laid pregnant in his bed. Glenna had refused to believe it. Instead, believing that Kara had tried to seduce him away from her, “Glenna, have you seen Ryce?”

She looked up again, “My son? No. You stole him from me. You couldn’t stand the thought that I gave Einon what you never got the chance to, so you stole him from me.”

The Queen had years of practice dealing with the witch. She knew it made things easier to give Glenna what she wanted verbally, “Yes. I stole your son from you. You were too unwell to care for him, but he’s missing now.”

“You lost my son?” she slowly climbed to her feet.

“He left with his lover and said they would be back in two days. That was more than a week ago. No one has seen either of them. We have had people looking for days, but they are with a witch. Is it possible for her to have done something to keep them hidden from us?”

“My son has a lover?” of course he did. He was as handsome and powerful as his father. Glenna had been concerned for a long time when he never took a lover, but to hear he had one finally made her happy. There would be a wedding and grandchildren. Einon’s blood would live on. One day, they would overthrow the Knight and Whore and retake the throne that belonged to them.

“Glenna, I need you to focus. Ryce is missing. We think he might be in danger,” the red haired woman cupped her dirty face in her own work worn hands, “Is it possible for a witch to hide people out in the open.”

Her son was missing? She was sure it was the Knight. He had dragged off her son to finish off Einon’s family. It took her a moment to realize that the red haired whore had mentioned a witch. As far as Glenna knew, she was the only witch for days that lived here. Granmyr’s coven had yet to try to seek their revenge on her. They kept their distance. Could it be Anna? Someone had told her once that Einon had killed her, but she didn’t believe that. He’d enjoyed having her in his bed too much and she was the one woman she had tolerated in bed with them.

“It is. If the witch is powerful enough. Has she taken my son? What does she want with him?”

“We’re not sure what she wants, but we do think she is involved,” Glenna eyed the other woman. The one who had tried to steal her king and her son. She was sure this was some kind of trick. They were wanting her to do something or they were trying to lure her away, “Glenna, this is serious. Ryce could be in great danger. You have to help us find him. You and Ryce know these woods better than anyone else,” which was strange since she hadn’t been raised here, “You have to know where he would go.”

The witch was silent for a long time. Staring down at her feet and her bloodied fingers, “You wanted to steal my son, you lost him, and now you want me to find him...If you want to be his mother so much, you will have to find him on our own…”

With that, she turned and started back towards her hovel. The whoreson prince decided he wasn’t finished and ran over before his mother could stop him. He grabbed her arm and yanked it hard to get her to turn back to him, “This isn’t about you! This is about your daughter! Your daughter! She might be in danger! You were a terrible mother to her! You beat her and treated her like a man! Emma didn’t deserve you as a parent! She’s a good person, better than most! You chose to spread your legs like a whore for a monster and God forgave you and gave you a good hearted daughter!” he roughly shoved her and she fell to the ground, “For once in her life, do something for her!”

“Edmund…” his mother started, but he put his hand up to silence her.

“No! She has made Emmaline miserable her entire life. She doesn’t deserve us being easy on her anymore just because she’s insane. She did this to herself. She can’t help us or doesn’t want to help us. We don’t need her help anyway…” though she doubted they would have came here in the first place if they didn’t need her.

Glenna crawled up to her knees and sat quietly as they left. There were a lot of thoughts and voices in her head. Most of them didn’t make sense. One stood out though. It was Einon.

_You are going to leave my son out there to die? You told me you would do anything to please me, Glenna. You were to raise my son to be a king. Instead, he is no better than a peasant._

“I’m sorry, Sire. I tried. I don’t want to displease you…” it made her sick to her stomach to think that she had disappointed her king.

_Then go find my son!_

She winced at the shouting in her mind before climbing to her feet. She had to do as her king commanded. She always did and always would, but not to help the whore or her son.


	11. Chapter 11

She didn’t cry anymore. He grunted and groaned softly as he thrust into her and she just turned her head and stared at the side of the tent. Her body was numb and dirty. Thyra tried to clean her, but she would kick and snap at the other woman when she got too close. Calling her a whore and a witch. She did still try to fight him when he came to her. Even got in a few good hits that knocked him back and out of breath a few times with her kicks, but it never stopped him. He always ended up between her thighs and inside her body. 

“This is a good thing for you, Emmaline,” he liked to talk while he violated her body. It made it harder for her to forget about where she was if his voice was always in her head, “Imagine it, we’ll retake the throne that should be yours,” Torvil had grand plans for his future. It started as just a means to get the dragon egg, but now he wanted more, “We’ll be married and a child will seal the union. I will have the dragon and you can have Thyra back. All you have to do is behave yourself,” the sad thing was that she didn’t feel as if it was a terrible offer. If she were any other girl, her father or mother would be bargaining her hand in marriage in much the same way, “Sister has been distraught about this all. I’ve never seen her develop feelings like this before. I do not even think she loves me as her twin. At least not anymore. You changed her, Emmaline. I had to dose her with her own herbs to keep her from trying to stop me from doing this. My men have been enjoying her greatly. I hate to put her through that, but they need a distraction.”

Her eyes widened a little as she heard what was happening to the woman she thought she’d loved. As much as she had thought about killing Thyra with her bare hands, the thought of her being just outside the tent, being violated and abused by this men, it made her angry. If anyone deserved to hit her or kill her, it was Emmaline. 

The shock and anger faded, replaced with new anger and repulsion as Torvil groaned and thrust into her once more before finishing. It made her sick to her stomach to feel his cock throbbing inside of her. Emptying his seed into her body. It always leaked out a little, leaving her to feel it dripping out of her slit and puddling against her bottom till someone came to try to clean her up. She told herself time and time again that if he did manage to impregnate her, she would find a way to kill it or herself the minute she got a chance. No matter what Torvil thought, she wasn’t going to hand over the egg. He was sadly mistaken if he thought she would cave the way Aislinn had.

Emma shivered as he pulled himself from her body and started fixing his breeches. The cool night air rushed over her body as he moved away. It wasn’t over. He’d be back in a few hours. Always smelling heavily of wine and getting rougher the heavier the scent was. She had several bruises on her hips from where he gripped. Her arms were sore from being lashed above her head for an unknown number of days. Her stomach hurt from lack of food. If what he said was true, she had a feeling Thyra wouldn’t be in here to try force feeding her anymore.

Her head slumped against one of her raised arms and she slowly passed out. It felt like no time before she felt Torvil’s hands sliding up her legs again. She groaned in frustration and the need for more sleep, “Time to wake up, Monster,” her eyes cracked open and her vision slowly started clearing, “Those eyes of yours are even worse at night,” he’d told her that more than once, “I have wondered, your mother was a witch. A rather powerful one, from what I hear. Why haven’t you tried to use it against me?” he asked as he pulled her legs around his waist once again, “Maybe you can’t. Did she not train you?”

Emma didn’t talk back to him anymore. She just let him ramble and tried to let her mind wander off elsewhere. But then he did something she didn’t expect, “You’ve been a good little monster the last two days. I think you deserve a little reward,” he reached up and cut the rope holding her wrists to the tree. He must have thought she had completely broken. Her arms fell down hard and she gasped in pain as the blood started rushing down into her fingers again. Her wrists were still bound and he didn’t appear ready to release them yet. 

He made quick work of taking her once again. He hunched over her, thrusting hard, and breathing his wine breath on her face. Feeling slowly came back to her as he rutted against her. Her slitted eyes stared over his shoulder as she tried harder to forget about where she was. Emma wished he would just be done with her and cut her throat or something. She had never felt more miserable before in her life and that was surprising.

Movement outside caught her eye and she assumed it to be one of his men. Probably trying to take a peek at him with the freak. She knew there were bets among some of men to see which of them would bed her first. None of them wanted to do it out of attraction to her. People were always interested in placing bets when it came to strange things. 

It wasn’t a man though. She saw blond hair. It was Thyra. Emma caught sight of her again as she walked past again. What was it Torvil had said? That she was drugged and being used by his men? Likely to put her back in her place after the damage Emmaline had caused to her. It wouldn’t surprise her to know that he lied. It wasn’t as if any of it mattered.

A flash of silver made her look up again. It was Thyra indeed. She was kneeling in the opening of the tent this time. She looked a mess and was holding a finger up to her own lips to advise Emma to stay silent. Her pretty blond hair had been cut, hacked off by a blade and badly done. Her pretty, pale face had a large bruise across one of her cheeks. Her big, blue eyes were watery and there were tear stains down her face. Her dress was dirty, stretched, and torn. It appeared that Torvil had not been lying, at least not entirely.

The blond woman started to move into the small tent and she knelt on a stick, causing it to snap. Before her brother could turn to check, Emma raised her sore and tired arms, draping her bound wrists over his head and putting her arms around his neck. Locking them behind his head and tilting her head back in a feign of pleasure as he thrust forward. He smirked and thrust harder, “I always told my sister that every woman could be trained,” she didn’t respond, just moaned loudly as he took her, “You all want a man in the end.”

She feigned more sounds of pleasure, even managing to force her hips to move against his the way they used to against Thyra’s hands. Torvil seemed encouraged by the idea that he had broken her. He thrust hard and eagerly.

He was unprepared when Thyra brought the small dagger down into his back. He howled in shock and pain. Torvil tried to sit up, but Emma pulled down on her bound wrists, holding him tight to her as Thyra yanked the knife out fast and plunged it back into his body. She didn’t stop till he went limp against her body. He kicked and shouted, but she didn’t hesitate for a second. It only took a moment or two before she was kicking his limp body off of her. Thyra brought the bloody dagger to her wrists and sawed through the thick rope. The skin under the rope was red, bloody, and raw. 

Their eyes met for a moment before Emma slowly moved to exit the tent for the first time in days. She looked around to see the other men lying in various positions around the campsite, “Are they dead?”

“No…” her usual husky and seductive voice was scratchy and cold, “They will be though. When I’m done,” she didn’t elaborate on what she meant, nor did Emma really care, “You should go. I’ll take care of this.”

Part of her was tempted to grab the girl around the neck and strangle her, but she had technically just saved her. A life for a life, “I never want to see you again.”

“...I know. Emmaline, I know this won’t mean anything, but I am sorry. I really do love you. I didn’t when we first kissed. I...I don’t have an excuse for what I did. I truly am sorry. This isn’t how it was supposed to end up…”

Rage finally overflowed from her body, “How was it supposed to end up, Thyra?! How?! Why did you two even come here in the first place?! Did you know the egg was here the whole time?!”

The other woman swallowed hard and stared down at her feet, the blade in her hand dripping with her brother’s blood, “We...we did. I saw it. We knew you existed, that you were Aislinn’s daughter, but Torvil was so against the idea of coming here to meet you. He said you would be too much like Freyne and we shouldn’t bother...but then I had a vision. I have them sometimes. Not often. Our grandmother had them too. It isn’t something that can be relied on to happen, but when they do, it is usually best to follow up on them. I saw you and the egg. I saw what it was and the power it could give us.”

“That’s why you sent word to Bowen and Kara. Because you knew I would find the egg and you wanted it.”

“Yes...Torvil wanted to eat it’s heart,” the statement took her by surprise, “Einon would have lived forever if the dragon, Draco, hadn’t been killed. The magic that kept Einon alive was only half-worked. It left him vulnerable to the dragon being injured or killed. However, if a human eats the heart of a dragon, they become completely invulnerable. Torvil wanted that. He wanted to restart our clan, but the village we were raised in would never follow him. If he could take them on without fear of death, he could rule over them.”

“And one day attack Einon’s kingdom?”

The blond woman nodded lightly, “Yes. He didn’t care that Einon was dead and that Bowen and Kara take care of the land now. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I just...I just wanted to see the egg. I wanted to know that they still existed. I didn’t know that Torvil was going to go this far. I swear.”

“You could have killed him sooner…” her slitted eyes narrowed, not even caring anymore that she was standing nude in the open.

The other began sobbing, dropping the dagger to the ground as she covered her face, “He was my brother. My twin, Emmaline. It’s not that simple. Even when he hurt me, he was still my brother.”

She wanted to be angry with Thyra, and she was to an extent, but she couldn’t. She knew that feeling. How many times had she thought about slitting her mother’s throat or driving a sword through her chest? Emmaline knew she’d never be able to go through with it. No matter how terrible the woman had been.

“I won’t come back, Emmaline. I promise.”

There was nothing more she could find to say. There was a lot she should have said and possibly something she should have done, but she didn’t. Emma wanted to be done with this. She wanted to go home and go back to her miserable life. She’d lie and tell people that she got into a fight with Thyra and the twins decided it would be best to go home. She would go back to being quiet and shutting herself away. It had been silly of her to think she could have a life better than that. She would teach herself to pretend like this never happened. If her mother could delude herself into believe she had a son for seventeen years and that a tyrant had loved her, then Emma was sure she could delude herself into thinking she’d never met Thyra or Torvil.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Wanting to just breath before she found something to cover herself with and leave. 

The scream of pain made her cringe. Her grey eyes opened wide and she saw Thyra crumple to the ground, blood soaking through the exit wound on her side. Torvil pulled the sword free from her body and he stabbed it into the ground, using it to prop himself up. His face was deathly pale and sweaty. His shirt was drenched in his own blood. Emma was amazed he was even alive and that he could even move. Torvil’s body buckled. He wasn’t going to last long.

“Thyra!” the tone of her own voice surprised her. She was worried. Emma started towards the other woman, but Torvil found the strength to stand and raise his sword again, this time towards her. Had she any kind of a weapon or armor, she might have kept going. The days of abuse had weakened her greatly.

“If I’m going to die, so is she. We came in this world together and we will leave it together…” he managed to huff out. It seemed to take all of his energy to speak, “This is your fault. You turned her against me,” her eyes were on Thyra. It had been one thing for her to just leave and for them to go their separate ways, but the thought of Thyra dying made her heart feel heavy, “Your entire family is poison…” for that, she could agree.

Torvil collapsed to the ground, breathing heavy and she finally ran to the blond woman. She pulled Thyra’s body up into her lap and immediately looked down at the wound. It went through her back and clear through to her front. It wasn’t a well aimed hit. While it was bleeding, it was not nearly as bad as it could have been. Thyra would bleed out slowly, but no organs had been hit. She could survive if her wounds were treated quickly. As much as it made her hate herself, she couldn’t just make her love disappear, “Thyra...Thyra…” she said her name softly, “I’m going to get you to help. It’ll be alright,” she whispered before trying to think of the best way to go about it. 

Thyra had said the other men were not dead. If she left to get help, they might wake and hurt her more. However, Emma was sure she was in no condition to be able to carry the other girl the whole distance back. Her eyes went to the other men. She could kill them. That way there was no risk of them hurting Thyra more than she already was. She had never killed anyone before. She had trained her whole life for a situation that might have never happened, but here it was. 

With a surprising amount of strength and speed, Torvil lunged at her. She managed to fall back, still clutching Thyra to her chest, “Let go of her, you monster!” he snapped as she scooted back in the grass.

“Get away from my son!” Emma was caught off guard by the new, but familiar, voice. It was her mother. The witch came up from behind her, the skirt of her tattered dress bunched up in one of her hands and filled with rocks. She threw one hard towards Torvil and he batted it away as he forced himself to his feet, “He is the son of King Einon and you will do good to pay him better respect!”

“What in gods name are you?” looked with disgust at Glenna, “Is that thing your mother? No wonder you’re so hideous.”

“What did you do to my child?” the witch snapped before stepping past her child and the other girl and towards Torvil.

“Nothing compared to what I’m going to do,” he smiled, blood on his teeth and a fire in his eyes.

“Mother, no! You can’t…” the rest of her words were silenced as Torvil rushed forward and thrust his blade through her belly. The rocks fell to the ground and he pushed her off, letting her fall to the ground with a heavy thud. Emma stared in shock as she realized that he’d aimed better this time. Her mother would be dead before she could crawl over there, “M-m-mother…”

Torvil’s energy gave out again and he fell to his knees. The life was fading from his eyes. He said something, but she didn’t hear it. Her eyes were on her mother’s unmoving body. Life with the witch had been miserable, but it was still her mother. The woman had given birth to her. 

Emmaline remembered the first time her mother had shown her magic. It had been terrifying, but incredible to witness. To see a demon summoned right in front of her. The cold terror that had gone down her spine as the creature locked it’s black eyes onto her. Glenna had stood tall and stepped in front of her. Blocking her and keeping her safe as she reminded the creature that it was there to do business with her, not her child. Even with all her faults, Emma knew that somewhere in her mother’s demented mind, she had believed she was doing everything for her child and to protect her child. She had no doubts that was why Thyra had followed her brother, though unlike her mother, Thyra had been wrong in thinking that Torvil had their best interest at heart.

Slowly, she lowered Thyra to the ground and climbed to her feet. She silently walked over to her mother’s body, kneeling beside it and brushing the dirty hair from her face, “Mother…” she said softly. Emma couldn’t remember ever seeing such a relaxed look on her mother’s face before. At least she was with her father now. Their souls would meet each other in hell. Emmaline was sure of it. If her father actually cared or not wouldn’t matter. What better punishment for a man like Einon than to trap him with the witch he’d broken down mentally for the rest of eternity?

Torvil groaned behind her. His energy was gone. He wouldn’t be making anymore sudden movements. Emmaline took her time picking through the bodies of his men, looking for her dagger. She found on one of them and slowly made her way back towards him. He’d rolled onto his stomach by the time she reached him, “You told me before, Torvil, that you would have me begging you for mercy. You failed. There are a lot of things I could said to you right now,” she talked as she straddled his hips and let her weight push down against him. Her feet came up and pressed against his wrists, “However, you are not worth the air.”

“Monster whore…” he choked out as she brought the blade down to his neck and brought it across the skin quickly. Torvil would have bled out soon anyway, but she released him now.

“Be grateful, Torvil. As my father said; death is a release, not a punishment.”

She sat staring down at his dead form for a long time. It was only when Thyra gasped in pain that she remembered what she needed to do. Her slitted eyes moved from body to body littered around her. If Thyra was to survive, they couldn’t be allowed to. Her fingers reached up and stroked the birthmark over her heart as she got back to her feet and glanced around again. 

The mark felt somehow hot.


	12. Chapter 12

“She went this way...I think,” Edmund spun around in a circle before turning back to his mother and father, “I’m not sure…”

They had been following the witch for several hours. Most didn’t go this far into the woods. It wasn’t unknown territory, but it was easy to get lost in the dark and there was usually little reason to go this distance. If something had happened to Emma, it was unlikely she would have been able to get back to the castle on her own.

Glenna had shown no interest in finding her daughter, but they all knew she would look. Her child was her whole world. It was her last link to Einon. If anyone could find her, it would be Glenna. The issue came when the witch proved to be hard to follow. They kept their distance from her and did their best to track her. Both Bowen and his son were expert trackers, but even they seemed to have difficulties in following her. 

It wasn’t that the woman was quiet, no, she talked to herself quite loudly much of the time. She was, however, quick. Her voice carried on the night breeze and when they lost sight of her, it was hard to find her again. Most times, they found her on pure luck alone. Her blond hair no longer shone in the moonlight as it did in her youth. The years of neglect to her own body had left her dirty and thin. It was much easier for her to slip through thick patches of trees and brush than it was for them.

“She could have gone anywhere. Are we sure she is even looking for Emmaline?” Edmund wasn’t as sure on this as his parents were. 

“She is looking. Glenna is highly possessive of her. It’s a wonder she has left Emma alone this long,” Bowen remarked before looking about, “Dragons weren’t this hard to find,” he muttered, “We should split up. Your mother and I will go East. You go West, Edmund. No more than two miles. Straight ahead and straight back.”

He nodded slightly before heading off. It was too dangerous to bring a torch among all the trees, but his father made all of them hunt at night to help their eyes adjust to the low light. It wouldn’t have mattered even if he hadn’t been trained for it. Emmaline was his best friend and he refused to rest till she was found. He had been hesitant to let her go off with Thyra in the first place and now his fears were being realized.

He had only been worried at first, but then Torvil disappeared with the men who had come with them and several of the village men. Part of him hoped that the man had simply been worried for his sister and went off to find her himself, but he wasn’t alright with that. The men from the village knew better than to speak ill of Emmaline in front of him, but the men who came with the twins hadn’t learned that lesson yet. More than once, he had heard the comments they made. The bets they had made. The bets Torvil had joined in on. Even if Torvil intended on finding his sister, that left Emmaline alone with nearly a dozen men. It was not something that sat well with him.

He ducked behind a tree as he caught sight of the witch once again. He knew he should have gone back to get his father, but he knew that they might lose her again. He knew the men that had gone with Torvil and he was confident enough that he could fight them if need be. While he couldn’t depend on Glenna to protect him if something happened, she was still a powerful witch and would not take kindly to people who hurt her child. He merely had to stay out of her range. Between the two of them, they could handle it.

He lost sight of the witch again after a few minutes and cursed himself, “Dammit all…” he growled as he stalked through the trees. 

Edmund knew he should have turned back. His mother and father would be waiting for him where they had split up. He couldn’t make himself do it. He wanted to keep going. Edmund knew everywhere in the forest that Emmaline liked to hide. While this was further than she would go, it was the right direction of some of her more favored spots.

Against his father’s orders, he strayed off the straight route and was soon walking in circles. I could swear he could hear Glenna’s voice, but he had no idea where it was coming from. When it suddenly stopped, Edmund knew he was in trouble. It was dark and he didn’t have a clue which way to go. 

Sighing, he was about to climb a tree to see if he could find the Draco star. He knew which way to follow it to get back home. Just as his fingers clasped around a branch above his head, he heard Glenna’s screeching voice. She was shouting at someone now. It only lasted a few moments before going silent again. But it hadn’t echoed. It was clear this time.

“Glenna!” he shouted as he ran towards the direction of her screams. Even as they were cut off, he could still hear them ringing in his ears.

The red haired prince came up on a clearing and crouched low. There was a small fire going and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before. Hadn’t the witch admitted that they had the power to hide people if they wished to? Torvil and Thyra had tried explaining the type of magic the female twin could use, but he hadn’t really understood. Magic was magic. What he’d seen from Glenna was enough to leave a rotted taste in his mouth. He could see no good in any magic.

Edmund glanced around and realized no one was there. There were supplies littered about, but he didn’t see anyone moving around. It took him several moments to realize that it was because no one was standing. The dark lumps on the ground weren’t blankets or supply bags. They were people. For a minute, he thought they were sleeping, but then he caught the firelight on one of them. Thick, dark blood was running from a slit in the man’s neck. The next body he came upon was Glenna herself.

The dirty haired witch was lying unmoving on the ground. Rocks scattered around her. Blood soaked her tattered dress. He slowly crawled towards her and rolled her to her back. Her dazed eyes were dead. Her skin was cold. Edmund had seen the dead before, but never in this manner. He only ever saw them cleaned up, resting easy, while their family grieved for them. This was almost painful, even though he had no warm feelings for the witch.

Movement made his head snap up and he leaned lower to the ground, determined to know who it was before they saw him. Shadows from the fire hide their body, but it was tall and lean. The hair was short and, strangely, their body was nude. Emmaline had told him that her mother could summon demons. Perhaps this was one of them. Summoned to fight for the witch, though she lost her life in the fights, and it was finishing it’s duty before returning to hell. 

It turned and he caught it’s eyes in the firelight, “E-Emma?” he said softly as he slowly rose to his feet. The dragon eyes glinted in the fire. The pupils were nonexistent. Just shining, yellowish orbs that seemed to turn into black marbles as her head tilted away from the fire. 

Before he could say anything else, the girl was on top of him. Her knife at his throat and her hands groping for her shoulders, “Emma!” her body was wet and he realized it was blood, “It’s me! Edmund! Emma!” he shouted as he tried to throw her body off of his, “Emma!” there would normally be no way he could stand a chance of winning a fight against her. Edmund had sparred and trained with her most of his life and he knew she was the stronger one. Yet he managed to toss her off and realized there was something wrong with her.

Her body sprawled out in the grass and dirt as he scrambled to his feet. She was back on hers just as quick, “I don’t want to fight you. You have to calm down, Emma,” there was something wrong with her. Her body had felt like it was on fire and the glow in her gray eyes sent shivers down his spine, “Please, Emma, it’s me. You’ve known me your whole life…”

That didn’t seem to do anything to calm the animal look in her eyes as she lunged for him again, swiping the dagger wildly and nearly catching his chest as he stumbled back, “Emma!” he knew it wasn’t helping, but he prayed that his voice would make it through whatever was clouding her mind, “Emma! Stop!” he shouted again as she charged at him. She was uncoordinated and reckless. Edmund managed to side step and grab her under her armpits. He lifted her thin body and threw it to the ground.

“I don’t want to hurt you…” though his words didn’t stop him from pressing his boot down on the hand holding the dagger. She screamed wildly at him. No words. Just screams of frustration. Her fingers wouldn’t let the dagger go and he reached down to grab it from her. Emma’s free hand reached over and tried to claw at him, but he knelt down and held both her arms down with his knees, “Emma! Listen to me!” 

“Oh god…” he groaned as he looked to the side and saw one of the other men, “Garrett…” it was one of the village men. Unlike the first man he’d seen who appeared to have nothing more than a slit throat, Garrett’s body was mutilated, “Emma...Emma, what did you do?” he nearly got sick at the sight of Garrett’s entrails which appeared to have been ripped from his abdomen. Garrett wasn’t the kindest of people. He was hard headed and rude, but to Edmund’s knowledge, he had never hurt anyone. He was several years older than Emma and himself. He was engaged to be married in the fall. Not a good person, but certainly not one deserving of this. The look on what was left of his face was one of pain and horror. He’d been alive when Emma got to him, that much Edmund was sure of.

“I’m so sorry, Emmaline…” he didn’t want to do this, but he realized he had no choice. 

He brought up his own dagger, but instead of plunging the blade down into her thrashing body, he slammed the hilt into the side of her head. Her body went limp almost instantly. Not a killing blow, but one he hadn’t wanted to make.

Breathing heavy, he fell back from her unconscious body. He sat there for several minutes before looking around to find a rope to restrain her with. He found one in the small tent nearby and tied her wrists behind her back and her ankles together with it.

He stumbled, blinded by his own clouded mind, as he went to call for his mother and father. Edmund nearly tripped over a body and was shocked to hear it groan in pain. So far, everyone else was dead aside from Emmaline. Looking down, it took him a minute to realize that it was Thyra. She looked as beaten and broken as Emma did, “Thyra…” he leaned down and saw the wound on her side. 

“I’m going to get help. Don’t worry,” he said softly, stroking her cheek in an effort to reassure her as he took off back into the trees.


	13. Chapter 13

“I don’t remember anything…”

It’s what she said for the first few days after waking up in her bed back at the castle. It was a lie and she had a feeling that Bowen and Kara knew it was a lie. She was positive that Edmund knew it was a lie. They didn’t press her about it though. Not yet at least. 

She spent much of her time alone crying into her pillows. Everytime she closed her eyes, she could see Torvil. When she did manage to sleep, she would wake up suddenly, thinking that she felt his hands forcing her legs apart. She could hear him whispering to her about what a good monster she was and how she would learn to enjoy it. It made her sick and most of the food she ate came back up.

Today, she was curled up under her thick blankets. She kept it pulled over her head and just sat in the dark under the fabric. Emma heard the door open and figured it was just someone bringing her food again. She didn’t move though. She was in too much pain to move.

“Emmaline…” it wasn’t Kara’s voice this time. Her jaw tightened and she curled up tighter as Thyra settled onto the edge of the bed. The blond woman had tried to come see her several times. Apparently she had kept quiet about what had happened as well, other wise she was sure Bowen would have had her thrown in the dungeon by now, “I know you’re awake. I plan to keep my promise. I will leave and I won’t come back...but I want to talk to you first. Please. Just for a moment. Then I’ll go.”

She knew she had to deal with it. She just wanted Thyra to leave so she could pretend like the other woman didn’t exist. If talking to her would achieve that, then she figured she might as well get it over with, “You talk. I’ll listen. Then you leave.”

“Very well…” but nothing followed for several minutes, “Will you at least look at me?”

With a soft sigh, she slowly uncurled herself, though it hurt to do so, and pulled the cover down from her face. She kept her body covered, not feeling comfortable exposing it, even with her clothing on, “Talk.”

Thyra’s face was still bruised, even after more than a week into recovery. There was a small, stitched, cut running along her jaw. It would likely scar. Someone had attempted to clean up the badly chopped off hair. It was shorter than Emma’s hair now. Her pretty blue eyes were dull and weary with sleepless bags under them.

Emmaline was sure she looked just as bad, if not worse. In fact, she knew she did. Starting from her stomach and shooting up through her chest was a sharp pain. Her body was begging her to curl up to try to alleviate some of the tight pain. Her face felt hot and sweaty and she was pale as death. Her curls were stuck to her face from the fever sweat. Her vision was blurry and it took her a moment to focus on Thyra. She didn’t even bother sitting up, but only because she knew it would make her ill to do so.

Thyra seemed taken back by how unwell she looked, “You look…” she stopped herself though, “Are you unwell?”

“How can I not be?” she groaned softly before wrapping her arms around her midsection, “All I see when I close my eyes is **your** brother. Inside me. Tearing me open,” her eyes narrowed up at the other girl. Thyra refused to meet her gaze, “Telling me how wonderful a father he would be to our child. How he would let me have you back after we took the throne from Bowen and Kara. How I would learn to enjoy bedding him eventually. Like I was some horse or dog that just needed to be broken,” a hard cramp gripped her stomach and she clenched her eyes shut with a groan of pain.

“Emmaline...I will never be able to apologize enough. There’s no words for what I let happen. I swear that it wasn’t supposed to be that way. We were supposed to just take the egg and leave. By the time I did speak up, it was too late. Torvil was obsessed with getting everything at once and he saw you as a means to getting all of it.”

“How long did you pretend to care about me? How much of it was a lie?” it pained her to think any of it had been a lie. Emma wanted to believe that Thyra had always wanted her, “Did you care about me at all the first time we made love?”

“...N-no...I’m so sor---”

“Stop saying that! I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry!” she snapped before another wave of pain hit her, “Ah!”

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” when Thyra tried to touch her, she smacked the woman’s hand away, “I do love you, Emmaline. I love you so very much. You have no reason to believe me and I don’t expect you to. I don’t deserve it.”

As much as she hated herself for it, she knew she still loved Thyra. Hadn’t she done everything to try to appease her mother for most of her life? She let the woman treat her like a boy, rarely talked back, took the beatings, and even lived like a hermit in the woods for years just to keep the woman as happy as was humanly possible for someone as mad as the witch had been? Torvil had been obviously the one with the more domineering personality. He was all Thyra had for family. She knew how that felt. Now they had both lost whatever remained of their families. 

Almost all.

“I want to hate you. I wish you had just left me alone, like I wanted. You made me feel something I never thought I would get to feel. I’d told myself my whole life that I didn’t deserve it. That because of who my mother and father were, I wasn’t deserving of anyone; but you made me feel it anyway. Now I have to spend the rest of my life knowing what it felt like and what it feels like to have my heart ripped out. Why couldn’t you have just left me alone?” 

Whatever answer Thyra gave was lost as she cried out in pain again, “Emma? Emma?” she just groaned, “What’s wrong? What is this?” her blurry eyes saw the blond woman pick up the small, empty bottle from her night table.

“Don’t touch that…” she groaned before doubling over again, “Oh god!”

“You’re with child!” the other woman got up quick and started looking around the room, “What did you drink, Emma? Tell me. Tell me what was in it!”

She had been asking the maids for small, various herbs over the past week. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she knew there was a child inside of her. It was only a few weeks old, but she knew it was there. While the villagers had been disgusted by Glenna, they still used her. It wasn’t uncommon for a young, unmarried woman or their families to come to the hovel and ask for something to rid themselves of an unborn child. She had watched her mother check the women for signs of a child. Emma knew those signs and saw them in herself. Even if she turned out to be wrong, she wanted to make sure the child didn’t go on living inside of her any longer. If she was wrong, a few moments of discomfort would be worth it to be sure.

“Emma, tell me what you put in it,” the blond woman was kneeling next to the bed and had her feverish face in her thin hands, “Emma, look at me, what is this?” she held up a small flower with bright white petals and a bright yellow center. The batch she held up had several of the flower heads missing, “Can you tell me what this is?”

“It’s...It’s…” it was getting harder to think and focus, “White sage. It’s white sage. It purifies…”

“Emma, this is not white sage. This looks nothing like white sage. This is bloodroot. Did you drink this? This is toxic.”

All she could do was groan again. She had mild talent for magic, but even less than that for mixing potions and herbs. She knew what she needed to be rid of the child, but not the quantities or a good knowledge of the herbs themselves. She believed the maid when she brought the plants.

“You need to throw up. Right now,” she batted at the other woman as she tried to haul Emma out of the blankets.

“Get away from me!” she snapped, “It needs to die!”

“You’re going to die!”

“I don’t care!” tears leaked out of her eyes as she tried to fight against the pain, “I deserve to die! I killed those men!”

“Those men hurt me. My brother hurt you. If you don’t want the child, I will help you be rid of it, but you don’t deserve to die because of it. How long ago did you take this? You need to throw up.”

Emma was resistant, but Thyra managed to overpower her. While she had been refusing to recover and hide under her blankets, Thyra had been trying to take care of herself. She grabbed a fist full of her rusty hair and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Even as Emma bit down on the fingers invading her mouth, Thyra didn’t let up. She forced her fingers down Emma’s throat till the girl began gagging and eventually vomited the bloodroot heavy liquid up.

Groaning, she went limp and blacked out against Thyra’s arms.


	14. Chapter 14

Thyra slipped into the bedroom and quietly moved over to the bed. Setting the bowl she had brought with her down on the edge of the bed, she moved over to the sleeping form. A small smile crossed her lips as she brushed rusty color curls that glowed like copper in the firelight from Emma’s face. Even though the other woman looked as if she were in a great amount of pain, it still made Thyra feel good to see her. She hadn’t lied about loving her. 

Life had been difficult for Thyra. Her mother had been born in the same village they were, but had never been accepted. They lived in a small shack on the edge of the village and had just tried their best to keep their heads down and live their lives. When he mother was barely younger than herself, she was taken advantage of by one of the native village men and found herself with child. She had raised the twins alone. 

Torvil had managed to find a place in the village. He was strong and commanding. Several men in the village were unhappy with the current elders who ruled over them and sought to start a new way of life. One under their strong hands instead. They had, roughly, convinced Thyra into joining them. While her magic was useful for them, they were more interested in her pretty face. Using it to seduce men and women alike to further their cause. Either to steal items of high and powerful value or as blackmail. 

Torvil had intended on taking care of Emmaline himself. Edmund had talked about what a shy woman she was. He made her out to be some nervous, awkward thing who was starved for affection. Her brother had expressed to her that it would be easy to seduce her and get the egg. He preyed on mousey girls much of the time. Made short work of gaining their love and affection, then leaving them heartbroken and devastated. 

Plans changed quickly when Emma rebuffed him the first few days. The prince hadn’t lied about how Emmaline was, but he hadn’t mentioned how she disliked liars. She wasn’t a girl easily bought by compliments. Thyra saw nothing but self loathing in Emma’s eyes. A hatred for her own very existence. No amount of compliments or sweet words would work to break through the shell she had put around herself.

While forcing herself to kiss the dragon eyed girl had been difficult at first, it got easier by the time they made love for the first time. While the other girl was a hesitant lover, she proved to be a skilled one. Once given instruction on what needed to be done, Thyra was pleasantly surprised at how nice it actually was. Emma’s lips were soft like a woman, but she kissed passionately and roughly. Her calloused hands were strong, but she moved them with the delicate ease of a woman. While Emma seemed to hate the more masculine side of herself, Thyra took great enjoyment in it. 

It was the first night they slept together that Thyra realized she was in love. As usual, they had forgone researching the egg and chosen instead to make love. Her eagerness to feel Emma’s body against her instead of doing as her brother had asked of her was an unseen sign. Most nights, when they finished pleasuring each other, Thyra would take her leave. That night, she had chosen to stay and fall asleep in Emma’s arms. She’d never done that before, sleeping with another person, and she found it to be wonderful. Waking with Emmaline’s strong arms holding her close all night was better than anything else she could think of.

It was the memory of that night that had spurred her to finally taking action against her brother. They had come into the world together, but he was a monster. He always had been. It was her duty, as his twin, to fix what she had helped caused. As Emma had done in the end towards her brother, Thyra convinced the men who had been drugging her and abusing her that she had learned her lesson and was ready to submit to a man again. She panted and moaned as they took her, smiled gleefully at their lewd comments, and they finally slipped up. She was coherent enough to dose them with the same thing she had given Emma and took off to take care of her brother.

Now she was standing over the woman she loved, the woman who hated her, and was ready to do the unthinkable. It had been several weeks since Emmaline had nearly poisoned herself. It had put the rust haired woman into some kind of deep sleep and they had been unable to wake her. Thyra had tried several mixtures and spells from her books, but nothing waked her. Bowen and Kara had brought in several healers and none were able to help her. Thyra had taken to caring for her. No one knew what had gone on between them in the end. They all still saw them as lovers, even if they might not have approved of it, and so never questioned her desire to care for Emmaline.

She had managed to keep hidden the fact that Emma was with child, but it was becoming more difficult. The woman’s thin, toned body was starting to show signs of it. Had she been more physically an average woman, it might not have shown so much. As it was, she pulled the thick blanket aside and lifted the undershirt to see the slightly bulging belly. The toned muscles that usually lined her stomach were being pressed outward. Further up, her barely there chest, was just a bit more shapely. Thyra expected that she would be the only one to notice the differences this early. She knew every inch of the other woman’s body. However, it wouldn’t be much longer before everyone would notice. Her belly would swell more and it would be impossible to hide.

It pained Thyra to do this, but it was a promise she intended to keep.

Bringing the bowl closer, she brought her dagger out and carefully slid it along the palm of her hand and let the blood drip into the bowl. It wasn’t magic she enjoyed doing. Death and pain. But it was not unfamiliar to her. Much like the witch Glenna, she was not unfamiliar with ridding women of unwanted children. It was a job no one wanted, no one liked, all frowned upon, but one that was necessary in every village. Even the women she had helped would look down on her as a child killer. They would spit at her in disgust, but come crawling to her when a man convinced her into spreading her thighs before her wedding night.

Her magic was different from Glenna’s, but mostly because it took place outside the body. Glenna focused on things that had to be ingested. Thyra’s was more external. Less toxic and less chance for mistake in doses.

She swirled the mixture in the bowl with her dagger before dipping her fingers into it. She was ready to start working when someone stopped her, “What are you doing?!” it was Edmund. She jumped a little as he came out of a shadowed corner of the room. Her eyes narrowed at him. He had been leery of her since they got back from the forest. He didn’t believe that neither of them remembered anything. When Emmaline got sick, he was the one who had spoken against Thyra taking care of her, “Get away from her,” he ordered.

“I have to do this, Edmund. I promised Emmaline that I would help her.”

“Get out. Now,” he growled.

“No,” she snapped back.

“Is she with child?” to which she nodded in response, “Who is the father?”

“Does that matter? They are all dead,” Emma had ensured that, “She doesn’t want it. She nearly killed herself to get rid of it. Maybe if it’s gone, she will wake up. What’s more important to you? Her or some child she doesn’t want?” she had said that many times before. Girls crying in her room over wanting to keep their love child and Thyra having to tell them what horrible lives they would lead if they had it and how they had to choose their own life over that of the child. Having been raised by a woman alone, she knew how hard it was, “How would she feel being forced to raise this child?”

Edmund was quiet for a long time before looking back at her again, “Will it hurt her at all?”

“There would be discomfort, but I am not sure if she can even feel anything right now. It should not hurt her though.”

His green eyes searched her, looking for lies, “Tell me who the father is first.”

She looked down at Emma’s face. It was resting, but there was still pain running across her brows. She wouldn’t be able to fully rest till the child was gone, “It was Torvil. He thought he could…”

“I don’t want to know what he thought. Just take care of it,” he moved around the bed and sat next to Emmaline, “And then you leave. If I ever see you again, I will kill you,” Edmund didn’t need to hear Thyra’s part in the betrayal. He knew it just by looking at her.

“I will leave when Emmaline tells me to,” she snapped. He didn’t need to know that the other woman already had, but she was done taking orders from men like him, “If you intend on staying, then keep quiet.”

Thyra traced a circle around Emma’s bulging belly with the blood, water, and herb mixture. She dipped her hand into the bowl and pulled it out dripping with the mix and placed it in the center of the circle. Her eyes closed and she focused her energy the way her mother had taught her. She could feel the life of the child inside Emma’s body. She could feel the pain running through the woman’s body. Part of her believed that the child could be a good thing. It could be raised with love by Emma, Edmund, Bowen, and Kara. There wouldn’t be a person in it’s life that wouldn’t love it. Where they had tried to raise Emma with love, Glenna had prevented much of it. There would be no Glenna to restrict it this time.

That didn’t matter though. Emmaline didn’t want it and she would do as Emma wanted.

She had done this several times, but it felt different now. She gasped as her mind was filled with images of fire. A large claw swung out of the fire and at her. Bright colors flashed around her and the fire engulfed her.

She screamed and fell back from the bed, clutching her hand to her chest. Edmund was up quick and rushed to her as she looked down at her hand. The mixture had been burned off, the skin bubbled slightly as if she had stuck it into fire. Pain seared through her arm and tears streamed down her face. On Emma’s belly, the bloody hand print steamed and started drying out and flaking off.

“What did you do to her?!” the prince snapped, unconcerned with her injured hand.

“It wasn't me! That child did it to me!” she defended herself, “Oh god…” she groaned in pain as her hand throbbed, “I've never seen anything like it before…”

Edmund drew his dagger, “I'm getting that thing out of her.”

It took Thyra a moment to realize what he meant to do, “No! Don't touch her.”

“That thing is a monster! Look what it's done to you both!”

“If you try to kill it, it will kill Emma too!”

“How do you know that?”

Thyra shook her head. It was too difficult to explain. Edmund didn't understand magic and he likely never would, “I just know. It knows we're trying to harm it and it will protect itself. That's why she's asleep. Emma tried to kill it and it put her to sleep. She will wake when it is ready to be born.”

“I don't believe you,” he snapped, “You want her to have that thing.”

“Why would I do this to myself?!” she raised her blistered and bloodied hand.

Their shouting had caught attention and Bowen was bursting into the room with Kara fast behind. They stopped quick seeing their son looming over the unconscious girl with a dagger aimed to her belly and Thyra on the floor with a fire burned hand. The bowl of blood and herbs had spilled over the sheets. They both looked at a loss for words before Bowen snapped and ran over to yank his son from the bed, “Have you gone mad?! What's going on in here?!”

Kara rushed over to look over Thyra’s injured hand. Her blue eyes looked up to Edmund, wondering how much to give away. The prince’s eyes gave her no answers, “I...I thought I could wake Emmaline.”

“Liar!” Edmund growled loudly. She looked at him again, though with surprise this time, “Tell them the truth.”

“That is the truth!” she had hoped killing the child would wake her.

“Emma is with child. Torvil’s child. She was trying to kill it!”

Thyra refused to be blamed for the whole situation, “You were ready to let me do it! To do it yourself when I failed!” his face was nearly as red as his hair as she called out his part in it.

Bowen looked between them and the sleeping Emma, “Is this true? Is she with child?”

“Yes. Torvil is the father. He...he wanted to use the child as a way to claim rights to the throne,” though that had not been the plan when they originally came here. Nor was she willing to be the one to admit that they had found a dragon egg. As far as she knew, Bowen and Kara were still unaware of it's existence.

The King and Queen exchanged glances. Emma had once told her that she heard Kara had wanted to kill both her and her mother shortly after her birth. While Thyra had strong feelings against the death of the child, she was willing to carry it out in Emma's wishes. She did not, however, want for Emma's death, “If you kill the child, you'll kill Emmaline too. We...we did not realize this at first. It is stronger in magic, even now, than anyone I've ever seen. It wants to live.”

“Both of you, out. Now. Edmund, take care of Thyra’s hand,” the red haired woman ordered, “Thyra, you are not to leave the grounds. Is that understood?”

She nodded lightly before climbing to her feet. Edmund followed her from the room and Bowen closed it hard behind them. They walked silently for several minutes before she spoke up. Her voice shook as she spoke through the pain. Thyra knew she could heal it, but she didn't feel as if she deserved to do so. She deserved the pain, “Have you told them of the egg?”

“No. Should we?”

“I...I don't know anymore,” she had spent much of her life taking orders from Torvil, it was hard to think on her own.


	15. Chapter 15

Emmaline screamed loudly, causing the nurse maid in her room to jump out of her slumber from the chair. It was late and most everyone was sleeping for the evening.

It had been decided to let her carry the child to term and let Emmaline decide whether to keep it or not. If not, Thyra had offered to take it far away and raise it herself. Bowen and Kara states that killing it was not an option. They didn't believe that Emma could handle the idea of sentencing her own child to death. That poisoning herself had been more an action of suicide, rather than just ridding herself of the baby.

Despite what they all thought, Emma had not been asleep. Not completely. She had screamed and cried and called out for all of them. Everyday. Uncryable tears welled up in her eyes constantly. She begged them many times to just end her life. No one ever heard her though. She couldn’t move or open her eyes. All she could do was listen.

She heard the awful things the nurse maid said about her when no one else was around. She heard Kara express how sad she felt for Emmaline. She heard Bowen’s statements about how they could have done better for her in her life. She heard Edmund say how he wished Torvil was still alive, just so he could be the one to have killed him. 

But most of all, she heard Thyra. The blond woman cried a lot. Confessed her love and self loathing. Told her about how she promised to leave and never return. Promised her that if she did not want the child, that she would take care of it. Thyra would hum and sing to her while adjusting her on the bed to keep her body from getting too stiff. She could feel when the other woman would lift her up and hold her close while wetting her lips and pouring water, wine, and broth down her throat. Thyra was the one who changed her long shirts and her bedding. 

When she finally woke, it was Thyra she called out for, “Ah! Thyra!” she screamed as the nurse maid scrambled off to find someone, anyone, to deal with the situation.

Pain ripped through her lower body. Even after months of disuse, her body reacted. She sat up, as much as she could with largeness of her belly in the way. Her eyes went wide as she saw it. While she had felt the child inside of her moving, she had no ideas as to how it looked from the outside. The large mound where her flat stomach once was shocked her greatly. Her shaky, thin hands moved to the thin cloth of her night shirt and she pulled it up till the mound was exposed. The sight of stretched, smooth skin held back her cries of pain. At least till she not only felt, but saw the movement beneath her skin did she remember the pain.

“Oh god!” her head fell back onto the pillows as she instinctively drew her knees up and planted her heels into the bedding. Emmaline had felt many types of pain in her life, but this was a new one. She had seen Kara assist in births in the castle before and had always wondered if it was truly as painful as the women made it out to be. The pain running through her right now gave her the answer. Which was that it was worse than the women made it out to be, “Ahhhhhh!”

The room was soon filled with people. Bowen and Kara were first, followed soon by a midwife. The Queen and midwife forced Emmaline into a propped up position against the pillows. None of them asked her questions about her sudden waking. They were more concerned with the birthing. They told her to breath and relax. Edmund was next, though his father tried to get him to leave. He refused. Stating that he wanted to be there for her. 

Thyra was last. The blond woman came stumbling in, tripping over her nightgown in her fluster. Despite all the people in the room, it was Thyra she reached out for. The other woman didn’t hesitate to run over and climb onto the bed next to her. Their hands clasped together and Thyra helped in wiping sweat off her brow and repeating calmly for her to just breath steady as Kara and the midwife worked.

“Emmaline, the baby is coming. I need you to do as I say. Do you understand?” the midwife began instructing.

“Y-yes…” she stammered out between heavy breaths, “Oh god! Get it out of me!”

Kara smiled warmly up at her, “It will be okay. Just stay calm, Emma. The baby will come when it is ready.”

“I remember you saying something similar to that,” Bowen said with a smile from his place across the room with his son, “Scream all you want, Emmaline.”

The Queen turned a sharp eye to her husband, “Out. Now.”

“Very well,” a birthing room wasn’t a place for a man anyway.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Edmund stated before rushing over against the midwife’s orders and clasping Emma’s free hand. She gripped it tightly, like she was doing to Thyra.

“Everyone needs to stop talking,” the elderly woman ordered, “The only person I want speaking is me. The only other person making noise is to be Emmaline. Is that understood?” the four extra people in the room nodded their response, “The baby is not facing right. I have to turn it. Emmaline, I need you to stay as relaxed as you can. I am going to try to do this from the outside, but if that does not work, I will have to do it inside,” Emma didn’t want to know what exactly that entailed.

How anyone could relax was impossible to imagine, but she tried her best to do as instructed, “Lift your backside,” how she was supposed to do that was beyond her, but Kara and Thyra managed to get her hips raised as the midwife shoved a pillow under them. She groaned in pain as she felt the baby move awkwardly inside of her, “You are doing well, Emmaline,” the woman next placed her hands on the swollen belly and began feeling around. Seeming to find what she wanted, she started to put pressure and Emmaline cried out as she felt the child resisting the pressure. 

“Stop! Stop it!” she cried out, but the midwife didn’t.

“It has to be done. The baby is almost right. Just breath, Emmaline,” she ordered. It wasn’t as if she had much of a choice, “There we are. Very good position now,” with the help of the other women, they got the pillow out from under her body and helped to get her knees back into position. 

She lolled her head from side to side, but finally stopped on Thyra. Her slitted eyes were on the blond woman. They locked eyes together and she held the gaze, “It hurts. It hurts so much…” she whimpered.

“I know it does. It won’t be long,” the woman responded before leaning down to kiss her sweaty forehead.

“Don’t leave me,” her fingers gripped Thyra’s tighter.

“I won’t. I promise. Now don’t talk. Just breath.”

“Time to push, Emmaline,” the midwife instructed, “Deep breath…” she inhaled deep, “Now push!”

Bearing down, she did as well as she could. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to. Most women spent weeks preparing for their birth, but she hadn’t the luxury of that. Emma wasn’t sure what it was supposed to feel like or if she was doing it right, “Again, deep breath and push!” she bore down again and gripped Thyra and Edmund’s hands tight. The both of them cringed in pain, but they held tight, “Stop! Relax just a minute.”

She went limp against the pillows and looked back to Thyra, “I...I…” she knew she should have been conserving her energy, but she couldn’t, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” the blond leaned down close and pressed their foreheads together, “I love you, Emmaline.”

“I...I k-know…” she panted softly, “I do...I do too…”

It felt like it was going on forever. She barely registered what the midwife said half the time. The only word she heard was the instruction to push. Everything else was lost. It wasn’t till she gasped loudly as it felt like a large pressure was being released. Her eyes rolled back and every ounce of surprise energy that had been in her body left immediately. She fell back on the pillows and felt herself sliding out of consciousness. 

“It’s a boy!” she heard Kara’s voice float into her head and the sound of a baby crying. Edmund’s hand slipped away, but Thyra continued to hold tight.


	16. Chapter 16

“Stop it, the both of you. You’re going to wake Lucan up again,” she snapped lowly as the infant squirmed a bit in the cradle next to her bed.

Emmaline had woken up three days after the birth. Her body was in a sorry state and recovery was going much slower than she was happy with. She wanted to be on her feet again, but Kara and the nursemaids wouldn’t allow it. At one point in her life, that wouldn’t have stopped her, but she lacked the physical strength to defy them right now. She focused her energy on doing all she could for the son she had bore. 

“I told you, Emma, I don’t want her feeding him,” Edmund snapped back.

“That is not your choice to make!” the blond woman shouted, “Tell him!”

The baby began wailing again and she sighed heavily as she leaned over to pull his bundled body out of the cradle once again. Why they couldn’t take their fighting somewhere else was beyond her. Emmaline just wanted to relax and sleep for a bit.

She cradled the infant in her arms and made shushing sounds at him softly. 

Lucan was a sallow skinned baby, though they were all sure time in the sun would take care of that and he would end up as fair skinned as everyone else in his family. His eyes were the same bright, icy blue as his Aunt and Father; but they were slitted, beast eyes like her own. A fluff of rust colored hair poked out from under the blanket that was bundled around his body and over the top of his head. He had lungs strong enough to rival any child she had ever heard before.

The maids gave reluctant help to her and the infant, but Edmund and Thyra were always there. Most times, it was just one of them and things went rather smoothly. But there were times, such as now, when both of them were in the same room that things just seemed to explode.

“He’s awake now. You may as well feed him, Thyra,” she said with some annoyance in her voice. 

Edmund stood between the blond and the baby, “She shouldn’t be feeding him. Why is she even still here?”

“Edmund, we’ve been through this. I can’t feed him,” her breasts had swelled a bit during the pregnancy, but no milk ever came, “Thyra can. I would rather he get milk from a human, than from a goat.”

“How is that even possible?” it wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation, “How do we know she isn’t trying to kill him?”

“Stop it! Edmund, out! Now!” he refused to accept their answer for how it had worked. He didn’t like the idea that Thyra had used herbs and magic to be able to provide mother’s milk for Lucan. He questioned why, if she could do that to herself, that she hadn’t given that ability to Emmaline. He didn’t accept that she was in no physical condition to be able to handle it. Nor did he accept that Emmaline had allowed to take on the burden of it. That Thyra had offered it to her first and she had been the one to accept her weakened state.

The prince glanced back at her before throwing his hands in the air and storming out. Thyra moved next to the bed and gathered the baby up in her arms, humming softly as Emma relaxed back onto the pillows. She watched as Thyra took the baby over to the chair to feed it. There was a tiny pang of jealousy in her heart whenever she watched it. It had angered her when she realized that her body seemed unable to produce the milk her child needed. Kara was still insistent that it could still happen, that some mothers simply produced late, but Emmaline knew it wasn’t going to. 

When she first woke and was strong enough to hold the baby, she made her decision to keep him instantly and named him Lucan. It meant _bringer of light_. Bowen and Kara were supportive and offered her the same care they had offered her own mother. Unlike her mother, she was willing to accept it without hesitation.

The issue of Thyra herself was another decision. Having decided to keep Lucan and before the issue of feeding, Edmund had assumed the blond woman would be sent on her way. When she stayed, there were a lot of questions. Privately, they had decided that Thyra could stay till Emmaline was back on her feet. After all, the child was her family as well. 

“I want to start walking tomorrow,” she stated. She had spent far too long in her bed. Months of being somewhere between unconscious and awake had been spent lying there. Now it was a month after waking and she hadn’t done anything more been helped to her feet a few times to relieve herself. Emma was done with it. She wanted to be able to move again. Never in her life had she thought she would miss her masculine form, but she did.

Thyra smiled softly at her from across the room, “I think that would be good for you. I can watch Lucan or, if you would like, we can come with you. You might be good for you to have someone with you in case your legs give out.”

She hated how weak she was right now. She wanted to tell the other woman that company was not necessary, but she knew it was for the best, “I would enjoy if you both came with.”

“Wonderful,” she smiled brightly.

Thyra’s hair had grown out somewhat since she last remembered seeing her. It was growing fast from the badly hack job it had been given by Torvil’s men. It hung just under her ears and the first forms of the soft waves were starting to be seen. The cut on her face had scarred, but it did little to mar her natural beauty. If anything, Emmaline thought it was more beautiful to see a flaw. Her breasts were heavier and strained against her dresses; it was something that would eventually fade once Lucan no longer needed mothers milk.

As angry as she wanted to be at the woman, a larger part of her couldn’t allow it. She’d never be able to fully forgive her, but she could understand. As strong as her mother’s magic had been, she had submitted easily and without hesitation to Einon. As strong as Emma was, physically, she had been unable to truly stand up to her mother. Thyra was a powerful witch, but she loved her brother. They had been twins. It was likely that Thyra hadn’t seen what a cruel thing Torvil was till they were much older. Emmaline had been enamoured by her mother’s powers at one point in life. She understood how Thyra had felt. That made it impossible to let the anger rise up. 

Sighing softly, she closed her eyes and slowly drifted off. 

It was dark out when she felt movement on the bed next to her. Her eyes cracked open and she saw Thyra collapse next to her, “I’m sorry. I just need to rest a bit. He’s asleep. I’ll go to my room in a moment,” it amazed her how much energy such a small creature took out of people. 

She shook her head and scooted closer to the other woman, “Just stay. He’ll wake soon,” it was easier to her to just stay, rather than a maid having to come and watch and just have to bring him to her room if he woke. 

“Are you sure?”

Emmaline moved closer, leaning up against the blond’s body, “Yes. Just try to get some sleep,” she muttered before slipping back off to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

The sun shone down on the two sparring partners. Edmund went to the ground sputtering curses and Emmaline smirked over him, “I had a child to soften me up, but what is your excuse?” she teased. 

“Glad to see you got your footing back,” he praised as he climbed up to his feet again, “Ready for another round?”

“I always knew you were a glutton for punishment. Your wife is going to step all over you one day.”

“So long as she’s beautiful, she can step wherever she wants.”

“You’re a horrible man, Edmund,” she smiled again, “But what can one expect from someone with so little charm?”

Against her better judgement and everything she had been taught, the small laugh behind her made her turn her back to the prince. She spied the little boy sitting under the tree with Thyra. He flailed his arms as he stood up for a moment before falling back to his bottom. Thyra picked up one of his little hands and waved it to her, making her smile. 

“Rule one, Emma, never turn your back to anyone except a corpse,” it rang out in her ears and it was too late to correct her mistake. Edmund got her on the back of the knees with the flat of his blade and she went down. 

It had been difficult getting back into fighting shape. Her body resisted it and rebelled. It begged her to stop and just accept a sedentary life. Several times, she was close to accepting it. It was Thyra who had pushed her. When she was tempted to sleeping well into the day, Thyra was willing to toss a bucket of water over her head or prod her with a broom till she rose. She was still far from the strength and stamina she once had, but there had been great progress.

It had been nearly a year since Lucan’s birth and things had settled down for the most part. Many of the villagers regarded the boy the same way they had her, but Emmaline didn’t respond the way her mother had. Glenna would hiss, spit, and throw things at them. Demanding that they give her _son_ the respect he deserved as their future king. Instead, Emma simply stated that they should feel ashamed of themselves for saying horrible things to a defenseless child. It hushed many of them for long periods of time.

The villagers were told that the deaths in the forest were horrible consequences of two women defending themselves. Most of those killed were outsiders and so did not affect them, but the few that were killed from the village had families who wanted the girls punished. Bowen and Kara made it well known that the men who had gone with Torvil were not good men. That they had hurt the women and had sought to take down what they had worked so hard to build after Einon’s death. Other than some glares and muttered words, it only further isolated Emmaline from the village. It didn’t seem to bother her though. Not the way it used to.

“I give!” she surrendered as she slowly climbed to her feet. For the first time in her life, she was the one at a disadvantage. Since giving birth, Edmund had been the one besting her in training. Emma didn’t plan on that lasting forever. She was determined to be as strong as she had been before. Not for herself, but for Lucan and Thyra. They needed her. 

Intimacy with the blond woman was not what it once was. They shared a bed, but mostly because it was easier to care for Lucan that way. There had been many late night talks the first few months. Several fights, though with hushed voices so as not to disturb the hard to get to sleep Lucan. They both had spent several nights crying over the things they said. Most of the tears came from Thyra over the things she had done and been a part of. In the end, they were tentatively rebuilding their relationship.

“Ma!” the infant boy called out as she started her way towards them. Emmaline had imagined having children before and always hated the idea of passing along her blood. Even seeing the slits in his blue eyes sometimes made her stomach tight. As did the apparent power he could one day wield just from the situation she had been put through while bearing him and what had happened to Thyra’s hand. He hadn’t shown any skills since his birth, but she feared it would rear up one day. It was up to her, Thyra, and Edmund to teach him to use it properly if it did.

“Egg!”

Emma paused for a moment before closing the distance between them and picking the boy up in her arms, “Did he say ‘egg’?”

Thyra shrugged a little, “I suppose it sounded a bit like that. You did very well today,” the blond woman smiled.

She didn’t think it sounded like egg, she believed it was egg. Emma didn’t have much in the way of experience with infants, but in her eyes, Lucan seemed more advanced than he should have been. Most would have been proud to hear their child, under the age of one, say as many words as Lucan did; but it worried her, “He said ‘egg’. Why would he say that?”

“I’m sure that’s not what he said. Sit down and rest. Have some water,” she held up the water skin, “You are being paranoid. Lucan is a perfectly normal child and he makes noises that sometimes sound like actual words. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

The rusty haired girl wasn’t convinced. One subject that was off limits was that of the dragon egg. The three of them had one conversation about it and decided to leave it be for now. Emma assured them that it was alive and that she was not ready to admit where she had it hidden. There was no point in any of them getting upset over it when all it needed was to be left alone and develope. Stressing about it would not make it hatch any sooner and sitting staring at it would do none of them any good. They simply agreed not to discuss it.

Settling down into the grass, she decided to let it go. Lucan stumbled around in the shade of the tree as she downed the water. 

Her eyes went back to Thyra. The woman was still beautiful as ever. They had yet to make love again. Whenever she thought about it, it brought back thoughts of Torvil. She couldn’t stand the idea of something inside of her body again, even if it was just Thyra’s fingers. There had been a few nights of light kissing and even some touching. Thyra had been very supportive and accommodating of it. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to be that intimate with someone again. 

She had told the other woman to find someone else to be with, but Thyra refused. Stating that she didn’t care if they never made love again. That her staying was for love of Emma and Lucan. That she didn’t need physical intimacy.

Emma didn’t believe that, but it was a nice sentiment. 

“There’s my favorite boy,” Kara called out from behind them.

“Thank you, Mother,” Edmund said with a smile.

“Not you,” she teased as she walked up and grabbed Lucan up in her arms, “May I?” Emma nodded and the Queen started off with the infant.

“Egg!”

Her head snapped around to watch the child disappear with the older woman. She turned her slitted eyes on Thyra again, “He said it. I know he did.”

“Stop being paranoid,” was the response she received again.

Edmund came over and laid out in the grass next to them. He was still on shaky grounds with Thyra, but the two seemed to have a tense tolerance of each other, “All she cares about is babies,” not that it had always been that way. Emma had heard the stories of Kara wanting to mercy kill her as an infant, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Really? Because that’s what it sounds like to me,” Thyra snipped.

“Please don’t start. Either of you,” it was best to cut them off before a fight started.

Edmund rolled onto his side, putting his back to the girls, and started to doze. She moved up next to Thyra and leaned back against the tree. They moved, awkwardly, for a moment before Thyra settled into one of her arms and leaned against her body. The closeness was appreciated and even wanted, to an extent.

“Do you want to talk?” the other woman asked softly.

“About what?”

“I...I don’t really know. We just haven’t really talked in a few days. You know I love you, right?”

Emma was quiet for a bit, but she pulled the other woman closer, “I know.”

“...Do you love me?”

They had had this discussion before. Fought about it several times. It was difficult. Emmaline told herself that she still loved the blond woman, but she never seemed to be able to make herself believe it. Yet when she tried to convince herself that she didn’t love her, she had the same issue. She enjoyed their kissing, enjoyed the memories of their love making, enjoyed the bond they shared in raising Lucan, and even enjoyed the light touching they shared.

But she hated looking into Thyra’s blue eyes and seeing Torvil. Even with the feminine slope of her jaw and neck; with her short hair, she looked very much like her twin brother. It was hard to tell them apart when the light was low or when she had too much wine. She hated how long it had taken Thyra to stand up to her brother in the end. She hated that even after making love that Thyra had never confessed to having known about the dragon egg before even coming to the castle. 

There was much to be angry about. She could justify it all to herself, but it didn’t make it go away. 

“I don’t think we should discuss that right now.”

“Why not?” she sat up and locked her eyes onto Emma’s, “You always say that. I gave you the option of me leaving. I promised to go and never come back. You said you wanted me to stay. That you wanted me to be here for you and Lucan. Both of you. I still kept my distance. I helped with Lucan and I didn’t push for anything. I just wanted to be here for my nephew. I respected that you might not want me around for more than help.”

“...I know…”

“You kissed me first, Emmaline.”

“...I know…” she was upset with herself for letting it get this way. 

“I would like to know where my place is. Do not worry about hurting my feelings, Emmaline. I would rather know, than to not know. You mean very much to me, but if all you want me here for is to be family for Lucan, then that is all I will be.”

Despite how it felt when she saw Torvil in the other woman’s eyes, she also couldn’t imagine sleeping alone. She wanted to hold Thyra close at night. Nor could she imagine sharing her bed with another woman.

“You’re not just here for Lucan,” she spoke softly, not wanting to wake Edmund and involve him in their conversation, “I care for you, very much…” she twisted their fingers together, “I’m not...I’m not ready to say _love_ ,” there had been moments where she was close to saying it, but the words were always choked back, “I want us to be together. I want for us to find a way to make things work, but I am not sure when I will be ready for verbal or physical intimacy again. If ever.”

Thyra sighed lightly before smiling and leaning over to peck their lips together for a brief moment, “You want us to be together. That’s all I need to know. I promise I won’t bring it up again,” not that Emma expected that promise to be kept. She couldn’t be upset if Thyra broke it. She was asking the woman to share her bed, kiss her, and raise a child with her. It would be natural to want confirmation of feelings at some point.

“We should rest a little before she brings Lucan back.”


	18. Chapter 18

It was not a decision that they had come to lightly. 

Lucan was running circles around the nearby trees. He was excited, but he had trouble standing still. It wasn’t that different from when Emmaline had been a child. He was not a stumbling toddler like most were at his age. Instead, he was well balanced for a two year old. He climbed over low branches and seemed unphased when he occasionally fell. He was excited for today.

His mothers were getting married.

It wasn’t a formal ceremony. Even with the support of the King and Queen, and Brother Gilbert when he had been alive, didn’t change the fact that the church wouldn’t bless the union. In the eyes of all those who looked down on them, they were abominations. As hated as they were before, they were more hated when it was found out that they were lovers and planned to refer to each other as Wives. 

For the most part, the villagers just avoided the women as much as possible. It was hard to ignore how helpful Thyra’s magic had been with the crops or how good Emma was at hunting and bringing in meat for the winter. It was also hard to hate Lucan as they had Emma. Without Glenna around to throw stones at them, they found the child very tolerable. To avoid actually liking the women's presence, they just avoided them.

A few curious villagers had turned up for the ceremony, but it was mostly a private party. Rather than a standard wedding, they were joining in a handfasting ceremony. One altered from their shared history. They had managed to convince a maid from the castle who had been taught to read by Brother Gilbert to perform the ceremony for them. She was highly reluctant, but had helped care for Lucan as an infant and stated she was doing it for him. She was also very vocal about how this was not a union in God’s eyes. She also only agreed to say the things written for her by Thyra under the promise of well payment.

Emmaline was dressed in a soft, white tunic with a golden embroidered dragon crest on the front. Her breeches were lightly tanned and clean. Even her boots had been cleaned. Her sword was resting at her side and her curly hair bounced lightly in the breeze by her ears. She was smiling brightly with Thyra’s hands clasped in her own as they faced each other. The bright sun poking through the branches caused the slitted pupils to shrink and the grey colored irises to overtake her eyes.

“Thyra, look at the man, uh, woman you have chosen for your partner, she is the strength and the stability which you need, she has the fire and passion that stirs the Stag in the heat of the chase. In her you will find a foundation on which you can build a home. She is your representative of the gods and it is through her that the power will flow. Look into her eyes and feel safe.”

The blond woman was clothed in a burgundy dress. It went down to her feet. Little flowers in gold were embroidered around the hem. Similar flowers were traced up the front in a V pattern from her navel up to the shirt line. The sleeves were tight to her elbows before flowing out like flower petals. Her hair was braided to the middle of her back, the blond glowing in the sun that shone through the trees. Tiny red flowers were woven into the braid. Even the scar along her cheek couldn’t diminish the smile on her lips and in her blue eyes.

“Emmaline, look at the woman you have chosen for your partner, she has the warmth and the calling that stirs the Vixen at full Moon, it is into her arms you will come at the end of the day and into her arms you will melt into oneness. It is her strength that will protect. Look into her eyes and see aspects of the Goddess looking back at you, it is these arms that will always protect you and keep you safe.”

It was time for them to speak and Emmaline went first.

“You are the one I have chosen to spend the rest of my life with, I love and trust you without question. You are the one I want to see when I first open my eyes in the morning and it is you that I want to give my last kiss of each night to. I will always make every effort to be at your side whenever you need me, I will stay with you for as long as you will stay with me. I hope this will be for a lifetime. As the Sun lights each day, and the Moon lights the night, I will be there for you through Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. I, Emmaline, declare that I take you, Thyra, to be my wife, in the presence of my Deity, Celebrants, Friends, Family and all spirits.”

The blond repeated the same.

“You are the one I have chosen to spend the rest of my life with, I love and trust you without question. You are the one I want to see when I first open my eyes in the morning and it is you that I want to give my last kiss of each night to. I will always make every effort to be at your side whenever you need me, I will stay with you for as long as you will stay with me. I hope this will be for a lifetime. As the Sun lights each day, and the Moon lights the night, I will be there for you through Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. I, Thyra, declare that I take you, Emmaline, to be my wife, in the presence of my Deity, Celebrants, Friends, Family and all spirits.”

Edmund stood just behind Emma. Even after so much time, his relationship with Thyra was still tense. They had an understanding towards each other. They both simply wanted to make Emmaline happy. 

Kara was holding a squirming Lucan as she watched the ceremony. She and Bowen had been hesitant when brought the idea that the two women wanted to marry. In the end, they decided that it was not the strangest thing for them to have seen in their lives. They were happy that Emmaline seemed to have finally found what it was she’d wanted her whole life. Someone to love her.

The two held their clasped hands up and the maid wrapped a gold and red cord around their shared fist, “May the Sun, the Lord, and the Lady bear witness that these two persons wish to be joined together. May the Earth, our Mother, and all here present bear witness that these two persons wish to be joined together. I declare you bound for life,” the maid had refused to declare the women as wives, so they had settled on being bound for life.

They raised their bound hands up and the few viewers had mixed reactions. Lucan shouted his favorite word _Egg!_ , while Kara and Bowen cheered softly. A few of the villagers clapped, though others made huffs of disgust before wandering off. Edmund patted his friend’s shoulder with a smile.

“We call with thanks to the spirit of this beautiful place, to our ancestors of line, of place and blood. We felt your strength and your presence, go with our love; we bid you Hail and Farewell!” the maid finished before rushing off quickly. She wanted no more part in it.

It had been difficult getting to this point. The past year had been long and hard. It was only a few months prior to the wedding that Emmaline had finally been able to express her love again. They were still far from love making again, but she no longer saw Torvil in Thyra’s big eyes. 

What had finally brought them to this point was the first fit Lucan had. The boy was not prone to illness, but a madness overtook him one night. He screamed in pain and clawed at everyone who got near him. Emma was left with bloodied arms from where she had pinned him down. His vocabulary was limited, but he screamed of a dragon, claws, and fire. It took hours for the fit to calm down. Nothing they did helped.

They spent days discussing it. It wasn’t the first time Thyra had told her of what she’d seen when Emma was pregnant and she had tried to abort the baby. It was concerning all around. Emmaline confessed that she was scared for what kind of person Lucan could grow to be. She cried into Thyra’s shoulder. As when they first met and Thyra never told her that things would get better, be alright, or call her beautiful; she didn’t dispel Emmaline’s fears. Instead, she told Emma that no matter what happened, they would get through it. They would fight it together.

Hearing that made Emmaline finally admit her love again. She had felt it for some time, but been too scared to say it. Hearing that Thyra wanted to fight through whatever Lucan was going through with her, she wanted to close with her again.

The women leaned close and kissed softly for a brief moment. Sealing their union.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for my next story in Bloodlines: Flame and Glory. The story of Lucan Torit and his dragon egg.


End file.
